


What Will Happen To Us

by Leqtator



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, added scenes, altered scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leqtator/pseuds/Leqtator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't know what the future has in store for us, perhaps you had known all along. Regardless of how our story ends, it was great while it lasted"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impression

Author’s Note  
English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
Disclaimer  
I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 

Bran’s POV  
Bran Stark was resting comfortably in his sled when he was awoken to the sound of Summer’s growl. Something or someone was closing in, and the crippled boy could see it past the direwolf’s wary posture. Hodor, Rickon and Shaggydog were away foraging, so only the grey canine and their wildling companion remained with the young Stark. 

Whatever was approaching them revealed itself as a blonde boy in a green cloak. Though he seemed harmless enough, Bran couldn’t afford to let his guard down, especially when so many have sought for his demise. OSHA caught the stranger with her spear at the nape of his neck, threatening to thrust the polearm further should he proceed. The wildling woman was amused when the stranger admitted that he was unarmed. However his sister wasn’t. That was the moment when Bran first saw her. 

An older figure, a young woman with curly brown hair, appeared out of the darkness of the forest and had a dagger at OSHA’s throat. She spoke in a composed yet threatening vocal as she ordered the wildling to drop her spear, to which the latter complied. 

The mysterious boy stepped forward, astonishingly Summer allowed him to pass, and introduced himself as Jojen Reed. He pointed at his sister with the name “Meera”, whom Bran caught giving him a studying look. “We’ve come a long way to find you Brandon”, the boy told him. 

“And we have much farther to go”  
\----------------------------------------------------  
Meera’s POV  
When Jojen told their family of his vision, Meera was certain that their lord father would never allow them to embark on such a perilous endeavour. Yet here they were, tailing Brandon Stark and his companions as they cross the vastness of the North. Before they depart from their home at Greywater Watch, Howland Reed had proposed assigning a few of his men to accompany them. However Jojen assured his father that he only needed her alone. Meera noticed something about the way he said it that implied the enigma of her role in this journey, one that her brother wasn’t telling.

Regardless, Meera trusted her brother’s judgement. After all, she had seen what he’s capable of. Jojen Reed was born with the greensight, an ability that grants prophetic dreams that illustrate symbolic images and metaphors of what is to come. She had witnessed her brother’s dreams came true before her eyes. Jojen’s foresights have always astounded her and she often talked about how lucky he is to have this amazing gift. On the other hand, the younger Reed was convinced that his abilities would be pale when compared to Bran’s, but Meera thought he was being humble.

He always spoke highly of the young Stark, Meera noticed. Lately, he’s been having dreams of an eternal winter and the darkness that follows it. “The cold will come for us all”, Jojen kept telling her. “And Bran is central to the war that is to come”. The cripple has yet to discover his full potential and there’s only one person alive that could help him achieve that. “We must take him to this teacher”, that was their mission. 

Meera examined this crippled boy that was destined to fight in a war between the living and the dead. Brandon Stark of Winterfell is the second son of Eddard Stark and Catelyn of House Tully, the fourth of the five Stark children not including his bastard brother. Bran bore an appearance that favoured his mother’s side, having thick brown hair and deep blue eyes. Despite his age, his head could’ve reached Meera’s shoulder if he hadn’t been a cripple. Prior to their first encounter, Meera expected that he would be taller and was convinced that they were roughly at the same age. She remembered how “the son of Eddark Stark” had visited Greywater Watch not too long ago. Although she wasn’t around at the time of his visit, she noticed that many of the local girls giggled whenever she asked them about the occasion. 

When she admitted this to Bran, the cripple laughed. “I think you mistook me for my older brother Robb”, he told her. She could only wonder how a boy so broken could be so important. Yet, Jojen assured her it won’t be a case when he found his trainer. 

As a cripple, Bran relied on Hodor to travel. The half-witted stableboy is a giant of a man, towering any man the Reeds have encountered in their lives. The rest of Bran’s party also included his brother Rickon, their direwolves and the wildling OSHA. Rickon is Bran’s brother, five years younger but five times as fierce. Summer is Bran’s grey direwolf while Rickon had the melanistic Shaggydog. Their odd companion OSHA is a grown woman, and one that Meera liked the least. From the moment they met, the woman eyed her and Jojen with a look filled with distrust and hostility. 

Her wariness was understandable though, considering all the unfortunate events they’ve gone through. Bran’s older brother was crowned by his people as the King in the North, which effectively made the cripple boy a prince. The older Stark had left his younger sibling to watch over their homeland as he marched south to free their father and sisters. The younger Stark failed however, thanks to a betrayal that had masqueraded itself as family. 

After Theon Greyjoy had taken Winterfell and the Boltons burned it, Bran had to fake his own death in order to escape. Together with Rickon, their only chance of survival is to seek refuge from their bastard brother at Castle Black. They hoped that with the protection from their half-sibling, they could endure long enough for Robb to return.  
This plan goes against what Jojen had envisioned. When he told Brandon of the vision he had, of the prominent part that he would take in the coming winter, the young Stark believed that Reed had lost his mind. 

Meera defended her brother, recounting all the visions that Jojen had and how they materialized as he predicted. Bran remained unconvinced. Instead, he told them of what he believed, “dreams are just dreams, and they’re not real”.

Meera caught a hint of sadness in his voice. “Is that what you believe m’lord”, she asked him. 

The cripple took the word harshly, “are you suggesting that I’m a liar Lady Reed”? 

Meera laughed. “Dishonesty is the word that I was looking for”, the young lady replied. 

Bran’s face reddened. “After my fall, I was left asleep for a long time. A three-eyed-raven visited me in my dreams and told me I would fly. But when I awoke, all I found was a pair of broken legs and not wings”. Bran wasn’t sure why he felt the need to tell them this. Perhaps the boy wanted to believe, or perhaps he was tired of believing. Regardless, he had enough of this talk of dreams and hoped it would be the end of it. 

But the Reeds went on, “and that stopped you from believing”, the male one asked. 

“Of course”, he was greatly upset upon learning the raven’s deceit. “The bird lied to me, made me turn to hope and disappointed me the moment I awoke”, Bran confessed with a sour taste. 

“Why do you think it lied”, Meera asked him. 

Brandon thought for a moment, then he shrugged. “Where are they taking me with these trifles”, the boy wondered. “Old Nan told me that the ravens are liars, I don’t know what it could gain from this bluff”, he told them. 

“Why don’t we take you to the raven and ask it yourself”, she asked him. The boy was certainly surprised, he had no answer to this unexpected offer.


	2. Help

Author’s Note  
English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
Disclaimer  
I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 

Meera’s POV

They were in the middle of a pine grove, seeking warmth around a fire they’ve built. Rickon was away playing so Bran had Shaggydog and Summer to look after him. All the while, the cripple tried his best to make himself useful by breaking sticks he’d gathered nearby to feed the fire. Jojen and Hodor had already fallen into deep slumber a while ago. 

Meera sat near her brother, skinning one of the rabbits she had taken down earlier. Osha was doing the same. “That’s not how you skin a rabbit”, the wildling told her. There’s no kindness in her voice. “I know how to skin a rabbit”, the girl said as friendly as she could. 

“Not by the looks of it”, the older woman replied with a smirk on her face. Meera peeked at the person in front of her. She witnessed in disbelief as the woman stripped the skin of the rabbit faster and with little effort. “You’d learn that had you been born on the other side of the Wall”, she told her. 

“She’s testing me”, Meera thought as the wildling continued to provoke her. “If I had a bow, I could’ve shot a dozen rabbits”, the older female said as she hanged the rabbit above the fire. 

She couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well I made my bow, I guess you don’t learn that beyond the Wall”, by now, Meera was struggling to keep her temper at bay.

“We learn how to use our fists though”, Osha replied. 

“Oh, are you going to punch the rabbits to death”, Meera asked with her voice raised. 

“I had someone else in mind”, the woman responded. 

“Well someone else is sitting right here”. 

“You’re both good at skinning rabbits”, Bran could feel the tension rising between the two women and knew he had to intervene. He hoped that his voice would be enough to restrain Osha, but it didn’t. 

“Some are better at skinning rabbits than others”, she said looking at Bran. 

Before he could respond, Meera interject, “Well some would say “thank you” when someone else hunts breakfast for them”. She continued, “Perhaps they didn’t teach you how to say ‘thank you’ beyond the Wall”. 

That was when she crossed the line. “You got a big mouth little girl...and too many teeth”, Osha spat as she stand up. Meera had done her a favour by doing the same. 

“Stop it”, Bran made a cry loud enough to wake Hodor. “You two have been fighting since the day you met”. 

“Lady Meera had a stick far up her ass it’s a wonder her feet touch the ground”, Osha said, causing the younger woman to flush angrily. 

“You’ve been nasty to her everyday, of course she’s nasty to you back”, Bran countered. 

Osha was in disbelief. “Me? It’s my fault is it?” Then she turned to Meera. “The first time we met she had a dagger at me”. 

“The first time we met, you had a dagger at me”, Bran reminded her. It is true that the boy and his wildling friend didn’t have the privilege of a kinder introduction. Osha was among a band of brigands that had made an attempt on Bran’s life. She was cut short by Robb and Theon however and has been a servant of the Starks ever since. Time had proven that she’s capable of redemption and loyalty. For that Bran was grateful, but now she’s being unreasonable. 

“We can’t fight each other, or else we’ll never make it to the wall”, he told them. For a moment they stood there silently. “I want you both to make peace, now”, Bran commanded them. Meera belonged to a vassal of House Stark, which effectively made her as much a servant to Bran as Osha. So with little choice and they made peace.  
Bran's POV The rest of the evening went on uneventful. Bran was lying on his back, gazing the stars above. His thoughts were leagues away, with his remaining family members, with his mother, Robb, Sansa, Arya and even Jon Snow. He hoped that they are well. When they got here, Bran spotted a weirwood tree not far from where they made camp. The boy felt the need to pray, not for him but for his family. He gently shook Hodor but the giant didn’t so much as stirred and Osha was away with Rickon, still disgruntled over the verbal joust she had with Meera earlier. Speaking of Meera, Bran noticed that she was the only one around that could help him. 

The boy felt too embarrassed to ask for her help, especially not after what had transpired. So without any assistance, the cripple slowly began to wriggle his way to the sacred tree. “The weirwood isn’t that far” he thought, “I’m sure I could reach there with my own strength”. Never had he been so wrong. Bran wasn’t even halfway to the tree and he was already out of breath. “Why didn’t I listen to mother?” he cursed. Had he did, he’d still have his legs. 

Suddenly a voice came from behind that drew his attention. “Going somewhere m’lord?” It was Meera. 

Bran’s face grew red as he was at loss for words. “I...I was”, he stuttered. 

“No need, I know what you intend to do”, young lady said smilingly as she offered him a hand. The boy accepted the aid without lifting his head. 

Meera carried him to the tree and laid him on one of its aerial roots. Bran did what his father taught him, how the ritual of the old gods are performed. In his prayers he wished for the safety of his family. Bran was a boy, a crippled boy. He could do nothing to help his family now, nothing but pray. He hated that. He hated being weak, like how he was too weak to carry himself to this tree. It was even more embarrassing when it had to be Meera to help him. That reminded him, “You didn’t have to help”. 

“How could you say that?” Meera asked him. 

“I had it coming. I was aware of my own disability yet I still did it, it was my own folly and I wasn’t worth helping”, Bran replied without so much as looking at her. 

“Some people will always need, but that doesn’t mean they’re not worth helping”, Meera said. 

“I just wished that I could do more”, he said. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he doesn’t need to look up to know whom it belonged to. “My father always taught me to be dependable”, Bran said in a depressed tone. 

His father always handled his own horse, tended his own sword and carried out the King’s Justice with his own hands. Robb, Jon and Theon made an example out of the late Lord Stark, even little Rickon liked to handle things on his own. But not Bran, he needed others to travel, dress and mount a horse, so he felt nothing but shame.  
Meera studied him for a while before she finally spoke, “I didn’t know Eddard Stark, but I’m certain that he wouldn’t feel ashamed of asking help from someone else”. 

“How could you know that”, Bran wanted to ask but the words failed to come out. 

“After all, he’s the Warden of the North. He had retainers that he trusted and maesters that counselled him”. Reed went on as she looked to the five-pointed leaves of the sacred tree. “Same as your brothers, I’m sure they had squires to help them with their armour and servants to tend their linens, did they not?” She made a fair point, Bran had to admit it. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was feeble compared to the rest of his family.

Meera lifted his chin and their eyes met. “From now on, I want you to promise me that you’ll never be afraid to ask for my help, or anyone’s”, she begged him. Bran stared deep into her green eyes and couldn’t help but blush, he could only respond with a nod. 

He was done with his prayers and humbly asked for the young woman’s assistance. “Gladly’, she said as she slowly carries him back to their camp.

They were halfway to the others when Meera suddenly spoke, “Since we were on the subject of helping others...” Bran knew what this was about. “Back then, you defended me, I wanted to thank you”. He noticed that she was struggling to find the right words to say. “Although it was a dispute between me and Osha and it had nothing to do with you, I insist that m’lord will not trouble yourself with my own personal conflict in the future”, she said wholeheartedly. 

“Some people will always need help, that doesn’t mean they’re not worth helping”, Bran said. Those were Meera’s own words and the girl couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Lord Stark”, she said. “If it pleases m’lady, ‘Bran’ would be just fine”, he told her with a lord’s courtesy. 

“It pleases...Bran”, Meera replied. 

Meera's POV

They were on the kingsroad again in the next day. Had it not been for Bran, the dispute between Meera and Osha would’ve gone bloody. “He is a Stark indeed”, Meera admitted as she stare at the cripple. Bran seemed to be in a thought too deep to mind her gaze. She didn’t realize Osha was walking beside her until the wildling spoke, “It’s rude to stare at your liege Lady Reed”. Meera’s face reddened. 

“Come to embarrass me again, have you?” the girl asked. 

“Best if we do not fight, unless you want to lose again”, the woman told her. 

“Forgive me, but I don’t recall Bran ever came to your defence”, Meera said with a smile. This time, Osha’s face reddened. 

It took a brief moment before Osha realized that Meera had just referred to Bran in such an informal manner.


	3. Promise

Author’s Note  
English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
Disclaimer  
I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 

Meera’s POV  
Meera couldn’t bring herself to sleep despite the fact that she had journeyed for miles across the North and an even longer journey waiting ahead. Her mind was troubled by the recent events that had transpired. It wasn’t all too dramatic, thank the gods, but it was something to think about nonetheless. 

Osha had chastised Bran the day before they entered the Gift. She was aghast upon learning of the crippled boy’s abrupt intention to travel north of the Wall. The Reeds have talked him into it, the woman knew.“Have you come to lost your senses little lord? You can’t possibly want to be a part of this madness”, Osha said as she begged for Bran to reconsider. But his mind’s made up. 

Meera remembered how the woman wept when she told them of a life she once had beyond the Wall, a soul mate and a home she had lost to the winds of winter. When the man she once loved left their home and never returned, Osha went out to look for him. But whatever was left of the man found her first. 

Ever since that day, the Reeds have looked at Osha in a different light. Meera still didn't like her, of course, but nevertheless, the wildling woman had their sympathy whether she wanted it or not. The land Beyond the Wall is as dangerous as it is mysterious, but that’s where they’re going regardless. 

“But the excitement didn’t start until yesterday”, Meera reminded herself. It was the day they entered the Gift and they stumbled upon a patch of land with an abandoned mill. “It was a good land”, Meera recalled. “Why is it abandoned?” she asked that day.

It was Bran who took the liberty of answering her question. “Wildlings”, was the only answer she got and needed. The boy realized the tiny mistake he’d done and turned to Osha who gave him a vexed expression. “Mean no offence”, he said with a nervous smile. 

“None taken”, the woman said casually.

Unfortunately Rickon failed to notice the awkwardness of their situation and ill-advisedly blurted out “Old Nan said they turn your skull into a cup and made you drink blood on it”. Meera and Bran had tried hard not to laugh at the remark and it was even harder to suppress when Osha shot a glare at the younger Stark. Just thinking about it made the young lady smiled. 

It was her brother who ended the merriment. “There’s a storm coming”, he told them. They looked up in the sky and saw a mass of dark clouds accompanied by strong winds. They could hear thunder from the distance, which put Hodor at unease. Meera remembered that she was the one who suggested taking shelter from the abandoned mill. 

“We should drink blood from our skull while we wait”, Osha jokingly suggested as she pat on Rickon’s head. 

Meera shifted her body to the left of the soft grass where she rested upon. She recollected the events that followed after they took shelter. They found a comfortable spot on the upper floor of the mill. “It was much more comfortable than the one that I’m currently resting on”, she pondered. 

But not long after the rain fell, a group of wildlings showed up. Whatever their intention was, they assumed it was not one they would like to find out. They decided this when the intruders butchered a horse and murdered its master in cold blood. It was a frightening experience, Meera admitted, even for an esteemed huntress like herself. 

Meera turned her torso back facing the midnight sky as she tried to imagine what would happened if Bran hadn’t done what he did. He might’ve saved their lives, not once but twice. First he silenced Hodor when the stableboy started making noises and threatened to give their position away. Scratching the back of her head, Meera wasn’t sure how Bran did it. But when she thought about it, the boy’s expression showed that he wasn’t entirely sure of it himself. Perhaps this was one of Bran’s abilities that Jojen mentioned. 

The second time was when Bran did what Jojen referred to as “warging”; some form of magic that allowed him to project his own consciousness to another being. The boy warged into Summer and scarred the unwanted visitors away, killing a few of them in the process. The incident erased whatever doubts Meera may still have at the time with Bran. Even Osha had to admit that there’s something unusual about him. She may have even started to believe in Jojen’s vision and all this nonsense about Bran being at the centre stage of the coming winter. 

The rest of the evening was peaceful enough. The wildlings did not return and the rain finally stopped. Meera noticed that Bran seemed troubled after he “returned” to his original form. When she asked about it, Bran couldn’t give an answer. “For a moment I thought I saw...never mind”, was all that he said that evening. “Did he saw someone among the wildlings, someone he knows”, Meera couldn’t shake the question out of her mind. 

Osha remained uncooperative, despite witnessing Bran’s abilities firsthand. “Whatever destiny you may think he has, he’s still a boy”, the woman argued. “Besides, you’re not going to make me follow you to the other side of the Wall”. 

“You won’t be”, Bran assured her.Osha was confused. “Because I’m going there myself”, he announced. By himself, he meant Hodor, Summer and the Reeds. 

“And what of me and your brother?” the woman asked. 

Bran took a moment to think and finally came to the decision to have them travel to the Umbers at the Last Hearth. House Umber was sworn to House Stark, Meera remembered. “They should be safe there, at least much safer that where we are heading”, the young lady thought. 

There was a tearful departure before that night ended. Bran and Rickon had a brief but warm embrace. When they broke apart, Rickon was all in tears. Meera admired how Bran was able to remain strong in such a heart-warming moment. The cripple even went as far as to tell Rickon to hold back his tears. “You are a Stark of Winterfell”, Bran reminded his brother. Then he asked “remember our family’s words?” 

“Winter is coming”, Rickon said. 

“Winter is coming”, Bran repeated.

The younger Stark wiped his tears as Jojen pulled him away from his brother. Osha brushed Bran’s hair before she approached Meera. She remembered what the woman asked of her. “Please keep this one safe”, she said. Then she turned to Bran and went on “he means the world to me”. 

Looking back, Meera did not reply, nor did Osha asked her to. She just took little Rickon, bid farewell to Bran and Hodor and then they left, with Shaggydog padding behind them.  
“Meera could you...” Bran pointed the window when he called for her. Hodor was still paralyzed after what he did to the simple-minded stableboy. Meera understood and carried him to where he was pointing. From the tiny frame on the wall they could see their departing companions slowly disappearing into the darkness of the night. Bran did not look away from them until they were out of his sight. Gently, Meera rubbed his shoulder and softly spoke, “they’ll be fine my prince”. 

Meera’s thoughts returned to the present where the remaining members of Bran’s company were sleeping soundly around the dead fire they had built. The young lady looked at Bran, sleeping like a babe next to his direwolf, when she remembered the promise she had made with Osha. 

“Keep this one safe”, the woman told her. 

“I’ll try my best, on my honour as a Reed”, it was pointless to say but she said it nonetheless. 

“Keep Bran safe”.

The words continued to echo in her mind until she fell asleep.

That's the end of this chapter, hope you enjoyed it. Leave a comment if you have anything to say, some errors you'd like to fix perhaps or a version/idea of your own you'd like to share, your feedback will help me improve my writing.


	4. Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note
> 
> English is not my native language, plus this is my first fanfic, so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Disclaimer
> 
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.

Bran’s POV

“Bran”

A soft feminine voice pulled him back to reality. “Is something wrong?” she asked him with a concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” Bran said, though his tired eyes and monotonous voice told her otherwise.

“You look like you could use some rest,” he heard her brother’s voice.

“I’m fine”.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” the female stopped walking when she spoke. She was in the front line so the rest of the column also stopped with her. She turned north and pointed at an old castle, one of the abandoned fortifications along the Wall, and said “We’ll rest there for the night.

“But it’s not even dark yet,” Bran objected. Jojen nodded in agreement, “we should keep moving as long as there’s still light. Our concern right now should be finding a way to get to the other side, Meera. The sooner we pass the Wall, the better,” he told his sister.

“We rest!” the young woman roared as she gave them a furious glare. The outburst stunned everyone, even Summer jumped a little. No more words were said as she marched ahead and the rest of the party soon followed.

As Hodor pulled Bran towards the castle, his mind wandered off. The next thing he knew, the group have already reached the empty stronghold. There they stood, before the frozen gate of the castle that was the Nightfort. (I know, I’m just mashing the show with the books now)

“We won’t pass through here”, Jojen said. “Hodor”, Hodor agreed.

“I told you, the only gates that are not frozen are the ones at Castle Black, Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower”, Bran said in a tired voice. They had gone through this path many times before. 

“Those castles are occupied, Bran. If they know who you are, words of your survival will no doubt reach your enemies”, Jojen said stubbornly.

“The Night’s Watch serve the realm, they are sworn to no Houses”, Stark said back.

“But we can’t take any chances”

“Well then how are we going to pass the Wall?”

“I don’t know!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Meera demanded. “Your vision had spoken, so one way or another we’ll pass the Wall, but for now we rest”, she said, looking at her brother. Then she turned to Bran, “especially you”.

“I don’t see the point, it’s not like I’ll be the one who’s walking”, Bran muttered. He didn’t think that Meera would hear him, but then she responded “well it’s not healthy for you either”, and he felt embarrassed that she did.

The look she gave Bran wasn’t cold but it wasn't pleasant either. If her expression could speak, he was sure it would tell him how disappointed she was. The boy felt terrible, he  
wanted to apologize but didn’t get the chance. 

.....

That night, they decided to use the kitchen as a place to rest. After they had their meal, Bran took a spot near the furnace, a little farther from the Reeds. There was little interaction between them ever since the courtyard. He wanted to end the awkwardness that surrounds them, but he didn’t know how. 

Resigned, the cripple lied down to get some rest. He closed his eyes, but then he opened them again. “I can’t sleep”, he recollected, or more accurately, he doesn’t want to. He remained in that position for a while until he felt a presence. 

He looked back and saw the person kneeling beside him with a cup in her hand. “Here”, she said as she handed him the cup. 

“Meera?” Bran felt like fool when he spoke her name.

“Were you expecting someone else?” the Lady of the Neck asked him with a raised brow. 

“N...no I just...hmm, what’s this?” he asked, looking at the cup.

“Something to help you sleep, It’s not dreamwine but it’ll do”, she answered. 

“So she did notice”, Bran figured just as much. Meera has always been perceptive, one of her many qualities that he admired. 

“Where’s Jojen?” he asked while looking around when he noticed the young crannogman was nowhere to be found. All the while, Hodor was sleeping soundly far across the room. 

“He got bored”, Meera said as she sat beside him. There was a brief awkward moment between them before the young woman broke the silence. “So when are you going to tell  
me?” she turned to him.

Bran gave her a curious look as he took a sip from the drink, which he found was too sweet to his taste. 

“Oh don’t give me that, something’s bothering you and I mean to know what” Sighing, Bran looked at Meera but then immediately turned away once he noticed the pair of eyes looking straight at him. “I can’t”

“Why the seven hells not?” 

“Because I don’t want to....sound like a child”

“But you are a child”, Bran reminded himself. He could hear a sigh coming from the young lady beside him. “I know there’s no indignity for a lord to ask for help but...I just”, the boy paused again.

That was the last straw for Meera. “I’ve had enough of this”, she said as she stood up.

“What is she doing?” Bran studied her uncomfortably as she walked past and sat behind him. “What’re you...Meera!?” the boy shrieked when she grabbed him. Her hands moved closer to each other from different ends. “Stop it!” the boy cried. The young woman ignored his demand and continued to pull him closer. He grunted at every struggle he made, but it made little matter to the person clutching him. 

Meera urged Bran to hold still but the boy continued to move. “Make this easy for me will you?” she implored. Even for a cripple, Bran made quite a noise. He only hoped that the others won’t hear the ruckus they’ve made. “What would Jojen make of us when he see us now”, the boy found the thought mildly disturbing. He glimpsed at Hodor and was relieved to find the giant still asleep and undisturbed. 

The cripple’s inadequate legs were nestled between and held by Meera’s. His cheeks were burning red as he tried to remove her arms off of him, but Lady Reed held him tighter than a rodent caught in a hawk’s talons. 

“Meera...l-let go!” The boy kept moving regardless.

“Just quit it” she told him back. “How long are you going to keep this up Bran?”

“As long as it needs”

“Such a stubborn little prince” Meera flared. 

“No!” Bran cried.

“Then it is pride is it? You’re too proud? You’re too high and mighty to ask help from one as low as me? Stark?” Meera spoke in a mocking tone

“No!” Bran cried louder.

“Then what is it? What’s holding you back? What are you trying to prove Bran?”  
Bran didn’t answer.

“’I don’t care for you’ is that what you think? I want to help you Bran, Jojen and I do. But how could we when you won’t let us? Why won’t you let us?” The tone of her voice quickly changed from anger to despair. 

“It’s because I’m afraid!” 

The room fell silent.

Meera’s POV

Meera haven’t thought to look at Bran’s face, the boy had his back at her the whole time, but when she peeked, tears had already fallen from his cheeks. 

“There! I’ve said it! I kept everything to myself, all because I was too embarrassed to tell you I’m afraid”. He removed his hands from her arms to cover his face. “Go ahead...joke about it” he sniffed. “A scared Stark, what would father and Robb make of that?” the thought made him laugh a bit.  
After a while, Bran composed himself. Meera sat to listen what the cripple had to say, and what he said was hard to take. All this time Bran had been afraid. Surprisingly it wasn’t the possible dangers they would face that scarred him. “Wildlings, giants and ghouls could take me”, he told her. But what he feared was what has been and what is being taken from him. 

“They’re all leaving me. First Jon left me for the Wall, then father, Sansa and Arya for Kings Landing. Later it had been Maester Luwin, and it wasn’t long before Rickon and Osha followed. And now, mother and Robb had left me too”, Bran whimpered.

“You don’t know that Bran”, Meera spoke to him softly. 

“I dreamt it last night, I saw mother had her throat cut open and Robb had bolts on his chest”, more tears gathered. 

That answered Meera’s questions. “So that’s what woke him last night”, she realized, “He must’ve been afraid that he didn’t dare to sleep”. “It’s just a dream Bran”.

“I told myself that too, but the dream... they felt real, like I was there”, his hands were still covering his face so he spoke in a muffled voice. He started to cry more, “I can’t go on anymore”.

Meera moved in closer to stroke his back and whispered, “Hush Bran, you’re a prince, you mustn’t say such things”. 

“I don’t want to be a prince anymore, I never wanted to,” he cried. “I failed everyone, I failed Robb and I failed the North. Now I’m the only one left,” he could only whisper the last sentence.

Meera didn't know what to say at this point. She could only imagine what the boy was going through. “For a child to hold such a burden,” she thought. She wanted to give him comfort, but she knew that only lies could bring him solace. Sighing, she wondered what her mother would do. Then she realized, “what would your mother do?”

“What?” Bran looked at her with a bemused face. 

“If I was your mother, what would I do right now?” she asked again.

“Well...” he began “Whenever I get sad, mother would always hold me...but not like this, she’d have my head rested on her chest as she cuddles me, b-but that was years ago, back when I was no older than Rickon”, Bran felt embarrassed for telling her. After he was done, the boy began to suspect, “Are you trying to...?” she was. 

Meera pulled Bran closer as she shifted to a resting position. The boy found himself nestled comfortably on top of her. She hushed before he could say anything and gently rocked him left to right. “How do you feel?” she asked him.

“I’m ready to meet my family now”. Meera laughed at the reply he gave her. “He managed to jest, that is a good start,” she thought. 

“Come now, it’s not all bad, is it?” Meera said looking down on him with a pouted face. 

Bran pondered silently for a moment before he finally admitted, “No...It’s not all bad”. He buried his face deep in her coat after the latter gave him an uplifting smile. 

It became silent again but this time it was Bran who broke the tranquillity when he muttered “I don’t want them to leave”.

The woman holding him was close enough to hear, “You don’t know that Bran”, Meera repeated. 

“What if I do? What if I was right and I’m the only one left now”, Meera thought that Bran had never sounded more like a child. 

“You’ll see them again, in this world or the next. Remember you still have Rickon, and I’ll be here for you”, she said softly. 

Bran looked to study her face to see if she was being serious. “I won’t leave you alone, no matter what happens, I promise”, she said reassuringly as she gently brushed his hair.  
Bran did not respond, instead he paused to think about it and finally spoke up, “I’m sorry”. 

“For what?” she wondered and asked. 

“For being ignorant, I thought that by keeping my own problems to myself would spare you the trouble, but now I’ve realized that I’m only making more problems for the people who cared”. Bran sniffed and wiped the last of his last tears and went on, “I’m sorry for making you worry”.

Meera’s gave him a proud smile. “I’m glad you finally see it that way, and it’s alright, you’re forgiven”, she replied as her embrace grew tighter. Lord Stark and Lady Reed rested there for a while but then the latter realized the awkward position they were both in. Without a second thought, the young lady quickly moved the boy away, only moments before her brother walked in. 

Bran’s POV

Bran was half-asleep when Meera pushed him away. He did not notice Jojen’s return nor did he remember that he was atop of Meera just a few seconds ago. The male Reed surveyed the room suspiciously to find his sister, red-faced and only few feet away from Stark. 

“So,” Jojen began, “Anything exciting happened while I was gone?” Meera noticed that her brother was giving her a rather indicative look, one which she didn’t like. “What are you suggesting brother?” she asked.

Jojen maintained his casualness and remarked “Well I’ve been away for quite some time I wouldn’t be surprised that a lot of things may have happened, wouldn’t you agree Bran?” He then turned to the younger boy. 

Bran was not fully awake to realize what the older male really meant by that but nevertheless he answered, “Oh yes indeed”, as he rubbed his tired eyes. 

Jojen turned to Meera with a winning smile.

The older Reed bellowed in anger as she launched herself at her sibling, which made the younger Reed to fall from his seat and make a run for it. In the ensuing chase, Jojen accidently stepped on Summer’s tail, waking the direwolf and causing it to howl in pain. The sound, in turn, woke and panicked Hodor. 

Thankfully, Bran managed to calm everyone before they hurt themselves. Everything turned out the way it was before the courtyard, after Bran apologized to Jojen, the two boys made peace and let their previous disagreement behind them. 

The night was still early, and they had plenty of time to rest. Bran told the Reeds a horrific folktale, about a Rat Cook who served his master with his children, which put them all to sleep.

The young Stark managed to sleep soundly that night without his nightmares coming back to him. He wasn’t sure whether it was the drink or the embrace that helped him slumber. Either way it was the Meera who ultimately helped him, and that was good enough for him. 

..........

In the following morning, they received an unexpected visit from a member of the Night’s Watch. The Reeds were suspicious of him at first. They found it odd for a crow to be travelling with a wildling woman and her baby and thought he was too plump to be a ranger. Jojen was convinced that he was a deserter, but the stranger swore to them that he was not. 

After giving them a close inspection, the man came to the realization of Bran’s identity. “Your Jon’s brother, the one who fell from the tower!” he exclaimed. Though the crippled boy denied it, the man had been around with Ghost (Jon's direwolf) long enough to know what Summer really is. He even recognized Hodor, based on Jon’s description of the giant, which pleases the latter for some reasons. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Bran requested this stranger who named himself “Sam”. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this man, but, oddly enough, the boy felt that he could be trusted. 

“I’d be dead if not for Jon,” Sam claimed. “If there’s anything you want, whatever help you need, just say the word,” he said, looking at the cripple. 

“Then there’s nothing left to think about then,” the boy thought and said, “Take us north of the Wall”.

.....

Sam showed them a passage hidden underneath the castle. “You’re all coming with him?” he asked the Reeds. “To the end of our days,” the younger one replied. “He’s our prince,” the older one said, brushing the prince’s hair. 

A new chapter in their journey awaits as Bran looked nervously at the other side of the gate, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Meera giving him a warm smile and all his doubts were gone. 

“I mustn't be afraid, I have to be brave now,” he told himself. And so together, they entered the land unknown and the crippled boy did not look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Hate it? Leave a comment and tell me what you think


	5. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Disclaimer  
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.

Meera’s POV

Several weeks have passed since they left the Wall, “Or has it already been over a month?” Meera couldn’t tell. They’ve lost count of the days that have passed not too long ago. The land beyond the Wall was indeed as forbidding as it is cold. With the lakes and rivers frozen and the game scarce, it was hard for them to make a decent living. “Small wonder the wildlings are so desperate to cross the Wall”, she thought.

However the harshness of the North of the Wall wasn’t the only thing that kept Meera from a restful sleep. Jojen’s health worsened by the day, there were times when the boy couldn’t sleep and sometimes he refused to eat. “This land has really taken its toll on him”, she grew anxious over the thought. 

Meera looked around the area to find that there was, once again, no animals on sight. The huntress groaned as she quivered her arrows and turned back for the others. Sighing, the thought of how the others would react when she return empty handed made her feel guilty. She pictured that her brother would be fine about it and Hodor would make a sad face and a disappointed “hodoring”. 

“And what of Bran?” she began to recall how the boy hadn’t have a proper meal for days. Worried, Meera contemplated on whether she should stay a little bit longer. But the sky was growing darker so she knew she had little choice.”I’ll have to search on the morrow”, she said to herself. 

When the young woman reached the others, she was greeted by two pairs of eager eyes. The feeling of shame emerged when those eyes turned to disappointment. “I’m sorry everyone”, she said sadly, looking at her feet. 

She heard her brother’s voice uttering “It’s alright” and Hodor hodoring “Hodor”, and it helped her smile a little. But then she noticed a voice that was absent; Bran’s. She looked up and saw that he was lying next to the tall stableboy. She expected that the boy would at least acknowledge her arrival as he always did. Another absence that she took notice was from a certain grey direwolf, which made it obvious to why he didn’t greet her. 

“Oh, not this again,” Meera sighed as she walked towards the cripple. “How long?” she asked, turning to her brother. 

“Not long after you left,” Jojen answered casually.

Meera grumbled at the reply. When the huntress reached her prince, she began calling his name and nudging his lifeless body. 

Bran’s POV

Brandon Stark, driven by the coldness and hunger, had warged into the warm furry skin of his direwolf. After scouring across the dense forest, the young wolf tracked down a deer, young and fat, and killed it with his razor sharp fangs and claws. He howled in triumphant. But before he could claim his prize, he heard a voice inside his head and everything went dark. 

“Hodor”

Bran awoken to find that he was back in his original self, much to his dissatisfaction. He could hear a familiar voice of a young woman beside him, sighing in relief over his return. “You’ve been gone for a long time Bran,” she spoke to him. Though he did not respond, he ignored her and, instead, turned towards the giant who woke him. 

“Why did you wake me up?” his voice suggested he was talking to either of the Reeds, though he looked at neither of them. He was still eyeing at his tallest companion, who wondered innocently of what he did wrong. 

“We were worried about you,” it was Jojen who gave him the answer. 

“Never mind that, here, you need to eat,” Meera said, handing him a piece of bread. It was among the few provisions they have left. 

Bran sighed as he took the bread. “I was eating,” he informed them before he started chewing the bread. “And it was a much better meal,” he thought. What made him angrier was the fact that he earned it, “I killed that deer, it was mine,” But it doesn’t matter now, it doesn’t change the fact that he was back and his trophy was gone. He became envious upon realizing that Summer was out there, at the very moment, enjoying his meal. 

“It may be you out there, but the body that was feeding belonged to Summer and not yours,” Jojen counselled. “But I can’t blame you though. It must’ve felt good to be Summer, to be whole again,” the young crannogman continued. Bran did not appreciate the way Jojen said it, nevertheless he held the resentment to himself and finished his food. 

“You’ve been away for too long Bran. You’ll forget about yourself, you’ll forget about us,” Meera spoke gently. 

Brandon bit his lips, trying to suppress the annoyance that was building up inside him. "Jojen made a point," he admitted, but there are times when he just wants to hit him. He needed the time by himself so he started calling for Hodor. “I’m done with my food,” he told them. 

Meera looked at him and asked, “Where are you going?”

“To find my deer,” was what his mind spoke. But the boy said differently, “I need to go”. He gestured Hodor to carry him and so the giant did. 

Meera’s POV

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Bran promised, his childlike, soft and pitched voice has been replaced with a deeper one. 

“He's growing fast,” Meera admitted. The boy was also getting taller, “he should be as tall as Jojen,” she reckoned. Soon he would be too big for even Hodor to carry. “How long will it take before he reaches my height?” for some reason, her cheeks heated at the thought. As the cripple and the giant disappear into the forest, Meera turned towards her brother with an incredulous look. 

“What?” Jojen asked. She tilted her head, suggesting that he knew what he’d done. “It’s not an insult for saying something that is true,” he uttered in defence, crossing his arms as he looked away. 

“Yes, but it’s the way you said it that hurt him,” Meera sighed. “This is why you don’t have any friends.” The young woman stood up and made her way towards her brother. 

“It’s because I’m smarter than everyone else,” Jojen said as he made a face, which in turn made his sister smile. 

“True, but that doesn’t mean you should say things that offend people,” Meera said as she sat beside him. She caught him giving a playful look. 

“What?” she asked him.

“Oh nothing,” he said, turning away, “It’s just that I noticed...,” he paused.

“What?” she asked him again, though she felt that she was going to regret asking. 

“Isn’t this the part where you go to Bran’s side?” he said with a grin.

“What?!” she cried in disbelief and hit him.

“I was expecting you to be cuddling him by now...or have you two done something else when I wasn’t looking?” he tried hard not to laugh. Meera slapped his cheek harder.

“Aren’t you the impatient one sister, Bran is a boy still so you’ll have to wait a little longer before he reach the proper age. But don't you worry, the time should come sooner than you may expect, won't be long now” when he’s done, his left cheek was burning red, but then again, so did both of Meera’s. 

When the laughing finally stopped, the boy took a moment to breathe before he spoke again, “Though seriously, why are you still here?”

Meera sighed again. “I don’t think it’s wise to bother the prince at the moment, he needs the time by himself,” she said, though in truth she wanted to go to him but she wouldn’t want her brother to win his game. 

“Alright then, this time I should go to him” Jojen said.

His sister looked at him curiously, “what do you intend to do?” she asked him. 

Jojen chuckled and jokingly said, “Don’t strain yourself sister. I’ll be the one to rock our prince to sleep tonight”. Meera made a face, which made him laugh again, and this time, she joined the merriment as well. 

The laughing stopped as the Reeds gasped for some air. “It’s been awhile since you laugh Jojen,” Meera said, her voice was still giggling. 

“Yes, it felt great,” he admitted. His sister thought it was strange that they could find some joy in such a predicament, nevertheless it made her happy to hear him laugh again. 

The two siblings remained silent for a while before they realized that Bran wasn’t back yet. It made Meera worried but Jojen assured her, “Bran won’t die, at least not here.”  
But the boy stood up nonetheless and said, “Though I think it’s high time that he return, it’s getting dark after all”. His sister nodded in agreement and even offered him company. However he refused the offer, insisting that it would be unnecessary. 

He started walking away from his sister, to the same direction that Bran and Hodor took the moment they left. But before he was gone, he turned to look at her once more. “Meera, you know that I love you right?” he asked. 

Meera was taken aback by this. “Of course Jojen, I love you too” she said. “As a brother I mean,” she added and they laughed again. 

“Yes of course,” Jojen said as he wiped his laughing tears. For a moment, Meera thought she could see her brother smiling. It wasn’t a grin or a smirk, but it was an actual smile. It made her happy and smile as well. “That’s good,” he began, “I just wanted to make sure that you know...that whatever I'll do, I do it out of love for you". He paused for a moment before he went on again, "I'm proud of you Meera, mother and father do too. You were always stronger than me. And I’m sure you will remain strong, and be ready for what you’re about to face”. With that, Jojen turned away and slowly disappear into the forest, along with the smile on Meera’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, I tried hard not to make it tediously long, but I couldn’t help but to get carried away in the process. This chapter was longer, but thought it would be ponderous so I divided it and ended here. I’ll post the other half...hopefully sooner than a month. (It’s a busy week) Thank you if you enjoyed it, have a nice day.


	6. Escaping Fate 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
> Disclaimer  
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.

Bran's POV

“Can we talk?” said the boy in the green cloak. 

“It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” the younger boy replied dully. 

Hodor has taken Bran deeper into the forest. When Jojen found him, the young Stark was sitting atop of a boulder and the giant was standing beside him, staring aimlessly at the darkening sky. 

The young crannogman began to spoke, “It’s getting dark Bran, aren’t you afraid of getting lost.”

“No,” the boy of Winterfell said. “I know this place. I’ve passed through here multiple times already.” 

“As Summer,” the older boy added. 

“As Summer,” Bran repeated his words, “When I was whole.”

Jojen sighed, “You’re still upset about that?”

“Did you sister sent you?”

“Were you expecting her? Forgive me my prince, but I don’t give warm embraces like her. Perhaps I should call her?” Jojen said with a grin. 

Bran tried his best to ignore the fact that Jojen Reed had made an attempt at comedy. “My jape was unappreciated I see,” the older male said. He walked towards the boulder and sat beside the person occupying it. “Mind if I?” he asked even though he was already sitting on it. He received no response. 

Things were quiet between the two boys. Then suddenly, Jojen picked up the nearest pebble to his feet and threw it at Bran’s head. It certainly caught the latter’s attention as he turned his head towards the crannogman with cold eyes. 

At first Jojen thought that the younger boy was ready to strike him. Surprisingly, the Stark boy’s face shifted from frigid to a grin, followed by a laugh. The older boy made a nervous chuckle. 

When he stopped, Bran looked to the sky. “It’s getting dark Bran,” the Reed boy spoke.

This time he received a reply, “Just a little longer”. 

“As you command,” he said as he lied back to look at the sky as well. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Stark said and went on, “Even though it’s not even night time”.

“Indeed”, Jojen agreed, the sky was full of stars. 

“Will I really be able to fly?” the boy in green could tell that the prospect still seemed impossible for the cripple. 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” was his answer.

“I certainly wish that’s true,” Jojen needn’t to look at Bran to see that smile on his face. 

“And I certainly wish I could be there to witness,” Jojen said as he smiled as well.

......

Brandon looked at the young man lying beside him in utter disbelief, “What did you mean by that?” he asked. 

Jojen eyes were shut when he breathe out a sigh. 

The crannogman did not answer his question. “Jojen!” he cried. 

This time, Jojen opened his eyes and looked at Bran. His face was pale as ice. “I...had a vision” was the answer that erased the assumptions. 

“When?!” Brand demanded to know.

Jojen remained silent.

“When?!” Bran barred his teeth as he clenched his fists. 

“Not long,” he finally got his answer.

“Gods,” he cried. “No...Not you too,” the thought of losing another friend was too unbearable for the young wolf. 

Hodor turned from Bran to Jojen, unable to comprehend of what was transpiring before him. 

So much was going through the young Stark’s mind. “I’m going to lose another? After father, mother, his siblings, Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin? And Meera?...Meera!” He looked at Jojen and asked anxiously, “What of Meera?...will she...”. “Die?” Bran did not dare to say. 

Jojen lifted himself up and began, “My sister...”

“No please...no,” Bran couldn’t bear to hear.

“My sister will be fine,” Jojen said calmly. 

Bran was frozen. For a while he did not move, but when he did, he only looked down. “I can’t rejoice,” the boy thought to himself. “I would still lose Jojen, he’s my friend and Meera’s...,” it then occurred to him that the Reed boy never mentioned his sister. He began to wonder, “Does Meera knows?” he asked. 

Jojen shook his head. “I’m sorry Bran,” he said.

“Why on earth are apologizing me for?” the younger one asked. “Meera should know this,” he added. 

But Jojen remained firm in where he stood, “She mustn’t know”.

“She deserves to know” Bran said again, sternly.

“I know what is best for her!” Jojen was never one to speak in a high voice. But when he did, Bran was stunned. The Reed boy took a deep breath before continuing, “Trust me when I say that I know what is good for her. Meera is a strong young woman, I never deny that. But even the most resilient of men and women could break over the loss of someone they love”. Bran knew that he of all the people couldn’t argue with Jojen there. 

“I know your intentions are well, but I know this is the wiser course,” the boy in green said with desperate eyes. 

“But if you don’t want her to know, then why bother telling anyone?” Bran asked. 

“Because you’re the only one I could trust with the task that I’m about give you, Bran,” Jojen replied. 

Bran had a notion of what it was going to be. “You want me to comfort her?” he asked with a bemused look on his face. 

“Promise me Bran. Promise me that you’ll be there for her when the time comes”.

The words rang in his head like a bell. It was the last thing he could remember before he got back to the place they set their campfire. 

“How could I ever bring her comfort?” Bran pondered. “I’m not as charming as Robb, nor am I as good with words as Theon”. The boy then cursed himself. “How could I think of such things at a time like this? Jojen is going to die and I’m fully aware of that, yet I could do nothing about it! Am I just going to let Jojen’s vision materialize?” 

The boy grew restless as he cogitated on what to do. He knew that Jojen was right that it was best for Meera to be blinded on matters which she may not want to see. But when he looked at her, sleeping like nothing bad is going to happen, he was overwhelmed with guilt. Slowly and silently, Bran wriggled his way towards Meera. Despite his best efforts, the boy made a bit of a noise as he dragged himself through the snow covered dirt. “Confound it all,” the boy cursed silently.

Thankfully, though, only Summer was ever bothered by the noise. When the cripple finally reached the sleeping huntress, the direwolf moved to its master’s side, much to his annoyance. “Summer, hush!” the boy uttered as silent as he could before he turned to the young woman beside him. 

He thought it was odd that he could find peace just by watching her sleep. “She’s completely clueless,” Bran thought as he gently caress her curly hair. He wished he could join her in such contentment. 

The young wolf then looked upon her face, which he found was too hard not to stare at, and for a moment, nothing else in the world mattered to him. It wasn’t the most elegant he admitted, he had seen more beauty coming from Sansa and the Queen, but it was graceful and pleasant nonetheless. “A beautiful face,” Bran whispered, even though it would wake her up, the boy didn’t care. He hoped that she would. She didn’t, however. 

He sensed a familiar tingle in his heart. When he first had it was a strange experience for the boy but he wasn’t confused, because he knew what it was, Robb and Theon had spoken it before. He didn’t know how to describe it but it felt like happiness in a way that none could compare, and the feeling was directed at Meera. The first time he developed this sort of affection was a few months ago when the Lady Reed embraced and comforted him in the night when grieved his losses. Ever since that night, the mere sight of the young woman would always bring joy to his heart.

It was difficult for him to look away. He was attracted to everything about her, from the most obvious to the tiniest of detail. And he knew that he only scratched the surface, “I want to know more,” Bran thought. He began to wonder how she would look like in a dress, “like a proper lady no doubt”, but unsurprisingly, he preferred that she remained the way she was, the way he liked. “The way she moves when she hunts, her swiftness when she fishes, her soft voice, her curly brown hair, her beautiful eyes and her smiles...gods the way she smiles!”

But then the realization came that her smile would fade away and his troubles returned to haunt him. The very image of Meera crying with her brother dead in her arms brought pain in his heart. It was even more painful, when he knew that he could do nothing. 

Bran continued to stay and watch until he couldn’t bear the feeling any longer. The guilt was too much. “Meera came to my side when I needed, even though it was uncalled for,” Bran recollected, “So I owed it to her,” the boy knew.

Finally he made up his mind. “I’m not going to tell Meera, but I’m not going to allow Jojen’s vision to realize,” Bran’s mind spoke as he looked at Jojen, sleeping on the other side. He will not allow destiny to hurt Meera, not while he has the strength to fight. “I won’t lose a friend and Meera won’t lose a brother. I don’t care what Jojen said about the inevitability fate. I’m not going to let that happen, at least not without a fight,” the boy looked to the sky with a determined grin.


	7. Blunder and Misfortune 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
> Disclaimer  
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.

They kept going north without knowing exactly where to go. “North of the Wall,” was the only lead that Jojen gave them. It may seem like a misstep in logic, but the boy’s vision had been right the whole time so they kept going nevertheless.

Meera was ready to have doubts until Bran halted their march when he spotted a weirwood tree that he claimed to have appeared in his dream. The boy touched the face that was carved at the heart of the tree and heard a voice telling him to find ‘another weirwood tree atop of a hill”. 

“It seems we really are going the right way,” Meera said as she scratched the back of her head. 

Meera’s POV

Her thoughts were constantly bothered by Jojen’s words. “Be ready for what you’re about to face,” he had told her a few days back. 

“What could it mean?” she wondered as she looked her brother, sitting silently by a tree. His health wasn’t improving either and it made her more anxious. “He’s hiding something,” she knew it deep in her heart. 

“They’re both hiding something,” she thought again as she turned to Bran, who was sitting awkwardly and far from them. The boy had kept Summer close to him the whole time, which was strange since he’d always warg into the direwolf to wander around the forest in his spare time. “Come to think of it, Bran’s been acting strangely too in the past few days,” she recollected. 

The boy’s been rather slow, as if he was in a different world entirely. She also noticed that, at times, he would look around as if he was expecting for something bad to happen. What bothered her even more was the fact that he had been spooked several times even by the most trivial of things. For instances, he thought he’d heard some rustling around them even though the rest of them heard nothing. Once he even thought he saw something moving in the bushes and when Meera volunteered to check, he insisted that he(Summer) will look at it instead. And again, last night, something passed them and he was certain it was a shadow cat when really it was nothing more than a squirrel. 

“Bran, are you okay?” she had asked him the question many times and the answer she got were always the same. 

“Yes I’m fine Meera don’t worry, you and Jojen have nothing to worry about,” he always said with a reassuring smile. 

“Should I be worried?” she often asked herself that. It didn’t matter, because nothing was happening. They all sat there quietly, waiting for time to pass as the night approaches. At last, she couldn’t stand it any longer and went to her brother, to confront him with her worries. Better talk to him than doing nothing. But before she could reach her brother, a sound can be heard.

“Is that a baby?” she breathed in disbelief. 

Bran’s POV

Brandon was perplexed at what he thought to be the unlikeliest sound to be heard in this part of the world; the wailing of a baby. “Be on your guard Brandon, this is not the time to be distracted,” he reminded himself. “Whatever’s out there is probably nothing short of unpleasant,” he believed. 

He turned to his direwolf and thought, “I should go and see what it is”. “I’m going out there,” he announced. 

Jojen did not like the plan, “No we shouldn’t go out there, especially not in this hour”. His sister agreed that they should stick together, but the crippled boy remained persistent, “I’m going”. 

Meera was in no mood to argue with Bran nor did she see any hurt coming from sending out a large wolf to keep them secure. Plus, she had enough to keep herself troubled at the moment and so she let him go.

Bran sat there and focused, taking a deep breath as he did, and awoken in Summer’s skin. With that, the young wolf padded away in search of the source of the mysterious sound. “Whatever is out there, I’m going to find it,” the wolf thought confidently. 

He sprinted towards the direction where the sound grows louder. Suddenly, after a while, he caught a familiar scent. Unaltered, the young wolf pressed on, moving swiftly through the snow and hopping over every obstacle he encountered. 

“There are more important matters at hand, Jojen’s life may be depending on it,” the young wolf said to himself as he continues. 

But then the crying was gone and the prince stopped. Not far from where he stood he could see a cage and what appeared to be something moving inside it. He was too far to make out what it was and so he padded forward. The more he moved closer to the cage the more he was able to get a clearer look inside it. Finally, the young wolf stopped astounded upon recognizing that it was Ghost, Jon’s direwolf, who was trapped inside the pen. 

Without a second thought, the grey wolf rushed towards his brother, hoping to find a way to free him. But before he could reach the albino, the prince’s clumsiness has caused his wolf to fall into a hole. It was a trap intended for wild animals, and he blindly walked right into it. 

Meera’s POV

“I shouldn’t have let him go,” the huntress silently cursed. She looked upon the situation they were now in. Deep in the forest was a hidden encampment, it was occupied and protected by a motte-and-bailey, and they were now just outside of its palisade walls. 

She conscientiously inspect the people inside, there were men and women and they had folds full of livestock. They noticed that the men were all in black, “these are men of the Night’s Watch,” Bran deduced. 

Meera was far less convinced. She did not like the way the men treated the women, how they laughed and grinned and how the terrified the women appeared. She was especially less comfortable at the way the men looked at the women. Suddenly she saw one of them took a young woman forcefully by the hair and dragged her all the way to one of the huts. And from that sight she knew that they should leave. 

“Were,” she corrected Bran. These were not men of the watch, at least not anymore. “We have to go, now!” she implored. 

“I’m not leaving without Summer,” the boy said. There was no arguing with him, especially on matters like this, the huntress knew. She looked at her brother, who gave her an understood nod. 

“Where did you last saw him?” she asked her prince.

“In a hole, somewhere around the east of the camp,” Bran answered. 

“I’ll go look for him,” she told them. She felt how the cripple tensed at the suggestion and noticed the concerned look on his face as she stood up. But the huntress ignored it all. 

“The sooner we get out of here, the better,” she thought.

“Wait...maybe...” Meera cut in before Bran could finish. “The rest of you will stay here,” she ordered. She looked to them as she leaves and went on, “If I’m not back by...” Smack! 

“Meera!” the boys cried and Hodor hodored when the head of an axe hit her face and caused her to fall to the ground. The next thing she knew was that they were surrounded by half a dozen men. 

Bran’s POV

“It’s my fault”

They were caught. Hodor was left outside while the rest of them were taken into one of the shacks. The men holding them dropped them under the feet of whom they assumed was leading this band of cutthroats. The man stood, all in black, and demanded to know who they were. But none of them obliged. 

“It’s all my fault”

The man sighed as he was beginning to lose his patience. He decided to approach them to get a better look, and he started with Bran.“Fine leather,” the man examined, gently stroking the cripple’s collar. “You’re highborn,” he realized and asked, “Who are you and where’re you from?” He started looking towards the Reeds as well. Bran gave no answer and instead forced himself to smirk, which prompt the man to strike him. The sound made when the man’s backhand met with Bran’s cheek staggered Jojen and Meera. "From where I'm from, I'd lost my hand for striking highborns like you," the man said, pointing at Bran. 

“All three of you are fancy folks,” he said while looking towards the younger Reed. “What brings you all to this side of the wall?” he asked them again. Jojen didn’t so much as to look at the man speaking to them. Bran could see that he was afraid.

When the crannogman failed to respond, the man turned to his sister. Bran didn’t like the way he looked at Meera. His shoulder’s began to tensed when the man started touching her hair. 

“Lovely curls, my mother had curls like these,” he commented. 

Bran could tell that Meera didn’t like it as well, judging by the way she averted her eyes whenever the man looked at her. “Why bring a cripple this far north?” he whispered to her ear as he rubbed her cheek. The young woman gave him a defiant look and did not reply. Sighing, the man drew a knife on his hand and held it at Meera’ throat. “Tell me,” he hissed. Suddenly, Jojen fell to the floor and started to tremble. 

“What’s the fuck is wrong with him?” Bran could hear another person talking in the back. 

Meera started to struggle but the man held her, “Please let me go, he’s sick I need to look after him,” she begged, looking at Jojen. But the man refused her and continued to ask questions while Jojen was still twitching on the floor. 

“Tell me who you are, now,” the man demanded again. This time Bran could see that the blade was ready to cut Meera’s throat open. 

“I’m Brandon Stark,” he cried. “I’m Brandon Stark of Winterfell!” He began to sob.

“Jon Snow’s brother,” another man spoke. 

“I know who he is,” the man with the knife said as he sheathed his blade. “And here I thought it was going to be another boring day,” he added as he stood up.

“I’m sorry,” Bran whispered, looking at Meera who looked back with a frightened look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and tell me what you think


	8. Blunder and Misfortune 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What time is it?

Bran’s POV

He’s almost a grown man now. Yet how could he act so childlike, so green and witless? He had forgotten himself. He forgot who he was. “What am I?” he asked himself. “A prince of Winterfell,” a voice in his mind spoke. 

“A prince,” he scoffed. “A prince of what?” he asked the voice, but he did not wait for it to answer. “A prince of a burned city and a forsaken kingdom, I failed my people as a prince, I failed Robb when I burned the Winterfell, Jon should’ve been the younger brother and I am the bastard, he would’ve been a better prince.”

“You failed no one, you didn’t fail your brother or your people” the voice returned.

“Tell that to Winterfell’s dead,” he said coldly. 

When the voice left, Bran was back in his prison, which was nothing more than a shack. He looked and sighed at his hands, cuffed and chained in rusted irons. His friends suffered the same. Meera, Jojen and Hodor were all in chained to the wall, in the same room as his. “I’m the reason why they’re all here,” he said to himself. Even though he tried to help, to ease his friends' burden, he ended up making it worst, as he always did. 

He looked around and saw that Jojen has fallen asleep. The young Reed was still weak after his last convulsion, so it was nice to see that he was getting a well needed rest. Looking at Jojen reminded Bran of his vision. “Could this be where he leaves us? Is he going to die tonight?” he wondered. “If so, then I have doomed him,” he thought with a heavy heart.

He then turned towards Hodor. “They hurt him,” he knew by looking at the bloody scars around his face. Whatever it is they did to Hodor must’ve frightened the giant, who kept trembling and whining “Hodor”.

Finally, he turned to towards Meera. The young huntress remained resilient throughout their captivity, as evident by her continuous attempt to break her chains, at times she would asks her brother “how he’s doing” or telling him to “hang in there”. 

Bran admitted that he respects this unlikely display of buoyancy, even after her near death experience, but it was futile and he knew it. “No one knows we’re here and no one is coming to save us”, they all knew it. 

But that didn’t stopped Meera from trying to squeeze her hands out of her cuffs. She ceaselessly tried forcing herself out of the rusted circlet, only to fail again and again, as Bran looked in horror at the red marks that was forming on her wrists. 

“Stop it,” the boy urged, she was hurting herself but she did not stop. 

She started shaking her hands violently, the chains rattled as she did. “Meera stop it!”

“I won’t, Bran!” she barked. “Do you have any idea of what’s going to happen?” she asked, looking at the cripple with desperate eyes. 

“I do, more than you know,” Bran wouldn’t dare to say, so he kept it to himself.

“They will kill us,” she said, looking back at her injured wrists. 

“And worse,” again, Bran did not spoke.

“They will kill Jojen, and they will kill me,” she went on. 

“W-what about Jojen’s dreams, he saw us make it to the three eyed raven-“

“No, not us, Bran,” Meera cut in, she looked like she was about to cry. “He only saw YOU make it to the three-eyed-raven, and not us,” her tears started to gather, but for whatever reasons she found the strength to hold them back. “They’re going to keep you alive for certain, because you’re the Lord of Winterfell, they could either ransom you to the Boltons or the ironmen or your brother at Castle Black, whichever holds the highest bidder”. 

“I’m not going anywhere, and even if I could, I won’t leave you all here to die,” he said stubbornly. 

“Oh Bran, there are more dreadful things than death,” she said. “Dying does not frighten me. It comes for all of us, except you, you will remain for the time being.” Her words made him sad, “What if I don’t want to remain when you are gone,” he wanted to say. If he could have any final words for her before she’s gone, that would be it. 

She continued to rattle her metal restraint, "But I won't submit do you hear me, not while I have the strength left in me, and neither should you," she grunted when more blood comes out. 

Her words had so much strength and hope in it that Bran senses awoken. "Darn it, how did I not see this before. Meera is doing all she can to survive and all i can do is mope and regret," he thought bitterly. "I'm sorry Meera, for putting you into this," he finally said it.

"I blame you for nothing, Bran," she spoke softly, "In fact, I should be thanking you for saving me earlier," she added. 

"I did?" Bran tried to remember, all his brooding have made him forget about his action of saving his friend's life. But this was hardly the place nor the time for that.His friends' lives were more pressing matter and he wasn’t going to let these men hurt them. "You can thank me after we're out of here," he said determinedly, something that Meera noted which made her managed a weak smile. 

“Whatever happened to giving up, prince,” the voice in his head returned.

“Silence,” he ordered, as he desperately looked around for a hammer or something that break their chains. There were some horse shoes and bellows nearby, nothing of use to them. He spotted a hammer atop of an anvil, but it was beyond their reach.

“Hodor, look for anything beside you that may be useful,” he employed the giant. Though he was simple-minded, Hodor could still comprehend basic instruction. The stable boy began turning right and left and not long after, Meera joined in their search as well. Bran thought about warging into Hodor to break the chains with the stable boy’s strength, but then their captors might hear them. Then finally, Hodor uttered his favourite word as he looked towards Jojen’s back.

“Is there something behind him?” Bran would ask but he knew what Hodor would say.

Meera was close to Jojen, enough to shook and woke him up. First things first, she asked “Jojen, how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” he assured her, pulling himself up.

“We’re going to get out of here,” Bran said, suddenly more determined than before. “It was all thanks to Meera,” he thought. “But first, we need you to turn around,” he told his friend in a suppressed voice, the last thing they need is to let their captors know that they were trying to escape.

Jojen slowly did just as he was told. “Good, can you see anything that may help us break these chains?” his sister asked him.

“I think there’s something, just underneath that barrel over there,” his eyes were still blurry from waking up. After rubbing his eyes, his visions became clearer, “I can see a pair of tongs, as in a blacksmith tongs”.

“Crucible tongs,” Meera corrected him.

“Can you reach it?” Bran asked.

“Why? It won’t break our chains,” Jojen said.

“No, but maybe we could try to use it as leverage to remove these chains’ metal hitch,” the cripple suggested. They may not be able to lever it themselves but with Hodor’s strength, it’s worth to try.

With his hands bound, Jojen’s only way of reaching the tool was his legs. He extended his left leg as hard as he could. Just when it seemed that the boy was about to reach it, Bran heard someone’s coming. Before long, the door was opened to three men, including the one who threatened Meera. Bran looked at the man with cold eyes but the man paid him no attention. Instead he had the other two pull Meera up on her feet and had her cuffs hooked to the ceiling.

“Stop,” he cried as he watched Meera struggle to free herself of her restraint. “Stop, whatever you’re doing stop,” he cried again when they started to tie her feet together as well.

The man was grinning the whole time Bran begged them to let her go. When the two men were finished, the man approached her. “Hold still,” he groaned when she wouldn’t stop stirring. He hushed her, and when she was finally out of breath, he gently stroke her curls as he did before. “Beautiful hair,” he said, as his fingers continued to find its way to her soft cheek. “What’s a fancy girl like you doing out here in the woods,” he began, Meera started sobbing. “You trying to get away from your father in his castle, because you like looking for trouble? You like taking it rough don't you?” he asked in a soft voice. Meera did not spoke, as if she'd already given up.

Bran couldn’t take it any longer, he tried to come up with a way to save his friend, "Perhaps I could warg into one of them," he began to evaluate the idea. By then, the man was reaching to for Meera clothes, attempting to strip her. "No time left," better than doing nothing, Bran began to focus.

But before he could leave, Jojen started speaking, “If you let my sister go, I can help you,” he told the man.

“Oh really?” the man said, amused. “And how are you going to do that, exactly?” he asked the young man.

“I can see things,” he began, “Things that haven’t happened, things that will happen”. Bran looked from Jojen to the man, wondering where the former was going with this.

“Oh is that right?” the man went to the blonde, “Did you see what I’m going to do to your sister?” he asked. “Did you what they are going to do to your sister?” he asked again, turning to the two men standing by the door, with a grin on each of their faces. The man drew his dagger and points it at Jojen, “You keep your eyes open and watch, or I’ll close them for you,” he threatened the boy.

Jojen kept silent as the man withdrew to Meera. When he sheathed his weapon, the male Reed spoke again, “I saw you die tonight,” he went on, “I saw your body burned in the fire and your bones buried in the snow,” when he was finished, he made himself smirk.

The man approached Jojen again. Men like him would not treat kindly to threats, especially from a boy, Bran knew. He expected the man was either going to kill or beat the young crannogman. But he will never know, because the next thing he knew was another man entering the room, with a terrified look, alerting his associates of an attack from the Night’s Watch.

The man with the dagger growled in anger as he left. When the door was closed, they could hear battle cries, screams of pain and the clash of swords. Meera sighed in relief as she allowed her tears to fall. “What’s going to happen next?” Bran wondered.

They remained where the man left them for a while, as the fighting outside went on, until another man appeared. “Friend or foe,” Bran could never tell by the way he was dressed. The man had a black beard and a slender built.

“Rescue party’s here lads,” the slender crow declared, he bowed to Meera when he saw her, “M’lady”.

“Is Jon with you?” Bran asked, suddenly feeling hopeful.

“Aye, he is,” the man gave the boy a reply, which made him glad as he looked to his companions. “We’re saved,” he thought.

“Are you Bran Stark?” the man suddenly asked. The boy gave him no answer, for obvious reason, and looked away instead. The slender man knelt before Bran, and to everyone’s horror, cut the cripple’s leg with a knife.

“Hodor!” The sight of Bran’s blood horrified the stable boy.

The fact that Bran didn’t stagger when he was cut gave away his identity, allowing the man to grin as he began placing Bran on his back. “Stop,” Meera cried, “leave him be!” The man ignored her and carried the boy away, as Hodor repeatedly uttered his own name and shaking his head in distress.

When the man carrying Bran was out of sight, Hodor suddenly quieted, which caught the Reeds' attention. The giant started rocking back and forth until he breaks his chains. As soon as he was free, Hodor started walking towards the door. “Hodor! Free us!” Meera cried. But the halfwit did not stop, as if he could not hear them.

Somewhere in the woods, just outside the encampment, the slender man was carrying the cripple on his back to an unknown destination. The man was thankful that his captive wasn’t making any sort of movement or sound. “That would’ve made my job more difficult,” he said. However the cripple’s weight made the man moved slowly, slow enough for Hodor to catch up.

When Hodor reached them, the slender man found his neck between two large gripping palms, consequently dropping Bran and screeching in pain. Lying on the ground, Bran could feel Hodor’s hands, as if they were his own, choking the life out of his kidnapper. As the boy channelled his anger along with the giant’s sheer strength, he pictured it was the man who attempted to rape Meera, and not the actual person, suffocating in his hands.

The man continued to scream for a while, until Bran had one of Hodor’s hands on the abductor’s head, and with a single stroke, snapped the man’s neck. The giant broke the man so hard that his upper spinal cord was exposed. The men fell to the ground, blood flowed and painted the snow red, and Bran was back to his original self.

“Cut me loose,” the boy told Hodor. The stable boy did not heard him the first time, as he was preoccupied by the feeling of confusion of the blood in his hand and the guilt of becoming a tool for killing a man. The second time Bran called Hodor, the giant listened and obeyed.

When his restraint was released, Bran ordered the giant back to where he was first held, “Go help Jojen and Meera”. Hodor left the second time he said “Go”. 

From where he lied, Bran could see a distinct figure far within the encampment’s walls, among the fray. The boy recognized the way he moved, every step he took with every swing he made and the way he dodged and parried. “Jon,” he breathed when he recollected his memories.

Bran started to drag himself closer to the walls. As he moved closer, the man’s face became clearer. “Jon!” the boy cried the moment he reached a distant close enough to see that his guess was right. But no matter how many times he yelled at the top of his lungs, Jon Snow was too focused in the skirmish to hear him. “Perhaps it’s best not to distract him at this time,” Bran realized and so he waited for the appropriate moment. However that chance will never come as Hodor returned with the Reeds, freed from their captivity.

“Bran, no,” Jojen started, “If you let them know you’re here, you’ll never reach the three-eyed-raven.” 

“But he’s my brother,” Bran insisted.

“Which is why he’ll never let you go,” Jojen countered.

The boy was reluctant to leave, especially after so long since they last met, he missed Jon. Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder and looked beside him, unsurprised to see it was Meera’s.

“Bran, please,” she pleaded.

“They're right. I’ve put them through such a trying time so the least I could do is to oblige them,” Bran thought. He called out Hodor’s name and declared that they’re leaving. The giant nodded and took the boy in his arms and together with the Reeds, they left.

......

Jojen and Meera struggled to open the pen as the coldness of the North has held the iron bars together. “Perhaps Hodor should-" the cage finally opened before Bran could finish. Ghost sprang out of the cage as soon as the Reeds backed away and shook the snow off his furs. Meera managed to giggle when some of the snow landed on her.

Ghost approached Bran and sniffed his crippled legs a little before moving towards Summer. He was glad that Ghost still remembered him even after all these years. The sight of Summer and Ghost licking each other’s ears and chasing one another through the snow reminded him of his time playing with his brothers at home. The thought made him feel sad and longed for home and family.

“You’ll meet your brother again,” he heard Meera spoke. “I’m certain you’ll meet the rest of your family as well,” she added further. Her words made him feel a little bit better.  
"Thank you Meera," he said, smiling. 

The boy ordered them to move. When he called for Summer, the direwolf gave Ghost one last lick before he move to his master’s side. The albino direwolf howled at their departure before disappearing into the forest. Sitting on his sled, Bran could hear Summer whining, which made him scooch closer to his direwolf and stroke his ears. “You’ll meet Ghost again,” the cripple whispered. :’(

The encampment was almost out of their sight when Bran gave it one last look. He remembered the last time he saw Jon, fighting his former companions like the great swordsman he was. Then thoughts of the man who held them captive returned to his mind and all he could think was, “I hope Jon kills him”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to bed


	9. Escaping Fate 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, I'm so sorry for posting this late. I've been very busy, It was a busy weekend and I have so many more stuff to do in the next few days. Hopefully, when I'm done with all that, I could get back on a more consistent schedule. I made this chapter longer to make up for all the future delays 
> 
> Also, my response to the comments from last chapter:  
> Dreamsthatglitter1-You're welcome, you've been most supportive to this work and I really appreciate it :)  
> jmfugate-Technically I just reimagined and added some stuff, but I'm glad you're enjoying this and thanks a lot. 
> 
> As always, English is very "meh" so please lower your expectation.

Meera's POV

*Thump!

“Jojen!” Meera cried after her brother fell. The wind blew colder that night and the young crannogman looked as run down as Winterfell. He grunted at every struggle as he tried get back on his feet.

“Should we rest?” A question Meera had often asked in the past week, and the answer often she received was only the answer she’d ever want to hear and not the truth. Tonight was different, however, as Jojen didn’t answer, what came out of his mouth instead were the chilly hazes that accompanied his feverish coughs. 

“He never coughs like this before,” Meera noticed, his face was pale and he was trembling relentlessly as well. 

“We should rest,” Bran agreed, much to her relief. They haven’t stopped since they escaped their captivity, however they should have already made a safe distance between them and the encampment that had been their prison last night. Bran spotted a small cave not far from where they stood, and without a slight moment of hesitation, the group began making their way to shelter. 

….

Hodor built them a fire, but even that didn’t stop Jojen from shivering. Meera tried her best to keep him warm by embracing him. The effort only did so little. His cough wasn’t leaving too, he couldn’t stay for five seconds without sudden sharp barks coming out of his lungs. 

“Stop, please make it stop,” she tried not to despair as she pray for his illness go away. “Gods be good,” she whispered. 

Jojen felt the concerns that he was causing, he could tell that Bran was at unease as well, even though he didn’t show it. “We should move as soon as possible,” the young man spoke as lively as he could, hope it would lift his sister’s spirit. He was disappointed that it didn’t. 

He tried again, “Say Bran, how do you know that we’re heading to the right direction?” It was an odd question for certain, but at least it could distract them from all their worries. Jojen was the one who led down Bran this path but now he realized that the younger male was taking the lead.

Brandon looked to the sky and pointed directly at a particular constellation of stars. “The blue eye of the Ice Dragon points north, while its tail points south,” he told them. 

“I suppose we’ll know where to look at when we go back home,” Meera managed a weak smile at Bran’s word “home”. Something that Jojen noticed and was thankful of. 

“Who told you this Bran?” No doubt the knowledge was passed from his maester but Jojen liked the conversation to proceed. To the Reeds’ surprise, it was Osha who had told the young prince that. 

“I find that hard to believe,” his reply made Meera chuckled. 

“She taught me a lot of things actually,” Bran insisted, with a smile forming between his cheeks. Thoughts of the wildling woman reminded of Rickon as well. “Wonder where they are now,” Stark sighed. 

“Somewhere warmer, no doubt,” Jojen replied enviously. “What else did Osha taught you?” he asked again. 

“Well,” the boy began, the Reeds sat silently as they listened to Bran. Osha told him tales of Giants beyond the Wall, Children of the Forest, the red star that split the sky and the enigmatic island of Skagos. Osha certainly had an exciting life, to see and learn such things, despite all the downsides of course. Oddly enough the Reeds enjoyed listening the wildling’s wisdom, even Hodor sat down to listen. By the time Bran was done, Jojen and Hodor were already asleep. 

…..

“You certainly know quite a number of things despite your age,” Bran blushed at Meera’s compliment. “It’s nothing really,” he said, rubbing his cold hands.

“I disagree,” she went on, “It’s a very admirable quality, I wish I’d grew up in a castle so that I could learn what you learned.”

“Well, I’m more interested in what you learn at your home,” Meera was surprised by Bran’s remark. 

“What could you possibly want to know from the Neck,” she asked him, giggling.

“I haven’t seen bogs or wetlands before. I want to know what your land is like,” the boy looked her with eager eyes, which made her smile.

“As you wish,” she said and began telling the curious prince about her homeland. The Neck was a strange place yet somewhat amusing for the boy. They were so indulged in her tale that they managed to forget all their concerns, allowing them to sleep soundly. That night, Meera dreamt of her home and her parents that await her and Jojen’s safe return. 

….

The men rowed steadily as the floating Greywater Watch edged closer to land. The Reed siblings waited at the castle gate with their loved ones bidding farewells and pray fortune for them. 

Howland Reed stood in front of them, strong and proud despite his stature, with his wife Jyana tearing up beside him. When the castle reached land, it meant that it was time for them to leave and say what may be their final words to their parents. 

Jojen hugged their father whilst Meera hugged their mother, before the siblings exchanged places. In her father’s embrace, Meera heard him reminding her who she is and where she belonged. “We are small but we are proud,” he whispered.

When Meera broke off from her father’s embrace, he looked at her, for the first time in many years, like a father instead of a lord. “Look after your brother,” he made her promise.   
“I will,” Meera replied as she held back the tears in her eyes. 

“Come back safely,” her mother said before kissing her forehead. She nodded before turning away. Howland and Jyana Reed were holding each other as they watch their children slowly walk out of their gate. 

…..

Meera woke up early the next morning and find that her brother was already awake, frivolously poking the ashes of their dead campfire. “What are you doing?” she spoke suddenly, spooking the younger Reed.

Jojen only looked at her and smiled weakly, “Morning,” he then greeted her.

“Morning,” Meera said back. She pushed herself up and grind closer to her brother. She reached her satchel and took out a piece of bread, half bitten, which she broke into two. 

“Breakfast,” she said, giving a piece of it to the young man. 

“Thank you,” he said when he took the food.

Meera often complained about how bland the taste of the bread was, at times she’d hope that they still have their salt or cheese, but the serenity of the dawn and the company of her brother made the meal more enjoyable. It used to be like this every time they break their fast at Greywater, she remembered, which in turn reminded of the dream she had.

“I dreamt about home, last night,” she told Jojen. 

The young man sighed and spoke sincerely, “I miss them too.”

Meera looked at her brother and asked, “Do you think we’ll see them again?”

Jojen shrugged before he replies, “I honestly don’t know. I do not control these dreams of mine or what they’ll show me.” He looked at her with a sad face, “I’m sorry Meera, and I wish I could help you.”

“I see,” Meera said, looking down at the bread crumbs that fell on her lap. Jojen noticed her smile was fading.

“What’s wrong,” he asked as he rests a hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing…I-,” she hesitated at first. “Should I-?” she asked herself. Finally, after thinking it thoroughly, “yes…yes I should,” she decided. “I think you’re not being completely honest with me,” she said, brushing the crumbs away.

It made him sighed and said, “I’m only telling you everything that you need to know,”

“You mean the things that I want to know”. Meera twisted her body facing her brother, her concerns have been bothering her long enough, she needed to know. “Is that your decision to make?” she asked him. “Had he ever thought of it? Of how I feel about this?” she wondered bitterly. 

She expected that he would be at loss for words, or at least ignore her as usual, but to her surprise, he moved closer and pecked her on her forehead. When he moved back, revealing a gentle smile on his face, he said to her, “There’s something I should say to you.”

“He sounded serious,” Meera noticed and readied herself for what he was going say. 

“You’re going to be fine,” was all he said. He made a face and Meera was dumbfounded. 

“Jojen this is serious!” Meera cupped her mouth after she cried. They looked at Bran lying beside Hodor and Summer and was thankful that she didn’t woke them up. 

They turned back to each other again, “Jojen this is serious” and Meera repeated with a hiss, which only made the young crannogman chuckle. 

“I understand your concern sister,” Jojen said back as he patted her shoulder. “You’re afraid of losing me, I know. But we all lose the things and the people we love eventually, it’s inevitable. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad end for all of us. No matter what you lost in your life, you’ll never lose them here,” he said, resting his hand on where her heart should be. 

“One way or another, there will be a happy ending in our story,” Meera was confused by his words. 

“You’ll be fine,” he said as he pats her shoulder again. 

…..

Bran’s POV

Bran listened to them with a heavy heart. He has been awake the entire time, but he had his back on them so they weren’t aware that he was. Jojen said pretty much the same thing to him when he brought his concern up again. He remembered his reaction to Jojen’s words, “That doesn’t make any sense, how can you have a happy ending when you don’t?” he had asked. 

To Bran, happy endings only exist in stories like the ones Old Nan used to tell him. To the boy, a happy ending only happen when the hero wins, the villains vanquished and his loved ones saved. 

“Have you ever wondered that your father’s life ended badly or not?” Jojen asked him. 

“He died, executed unfairly without a trial, of course his life ended badly,” Bran spoke in all certainty. 

“How could you be so sure? You don’t know where he is now, how could you know how he feels or thinks? Are you certain that he hasn’t found peace and rest in the company of his father, your uncle Brandon and your aunt Lyanna? And that he’s with your mother and your brother Robb, waiting for you and the rest of your siblings?” 

“I…I haven’t thought of that…” Bran said.

“Well that’s because you’re not thinking with an open mind, it can be difficult to see the good in what’s bad” 

Bran looked at him oddly and said, “This optimistic philosophy makes little sense to me.”

Jojen looked back at him and replied, “That’s because you’re a boy, someday you will.” “Remember what I said to you?” he asked the boy.

“I won’t let you die,” Bran said stubbornly. 

“You can’t escape fate prince, don’t fight it,” was all the crannogman said before he started walking away.

Bran stood up and cried “Jojen!” causing the young man to look back.

“I…I,” Bran wanted to say no, he wanted to say that he will not let Jojen leave him and Meera in pain. But his friend was right, there’s no way of fighting the inevitable. 

Jojen smiled, “You’re my best friend, you know that don’t you?” he asked. 

Bran made a face and responded, “I’m your only friend”. Sadly, it was true, but it made Jojen laugh regardless.

“That’s why I’m leaving Meera to you, I’m putting my trust to you Bran,” he started leaving again. 

“Jojen…” before Bran could speak further, the crannogman was gone and he awoken, Jojen can be heard poking the dead campfire, Meera awoken not long after he did and the rest was history. 

……

After travelling for many hours they’ve finally reached their destination. There they were, upon a hill, after everything they’ve endured, with the weirwood tree finally on sight. Just a few more steps and Bran will meet the three-eyed-raven. 

“We’re finally here,” the boy breathed, he should be feeling excited, but he was more anxious than eager. He looked at the Reeds, who starred in awe at the sight of the beautiful white tree with its crimson star-shaped leaves, “In any moment now, something will go wrong,” he said to himself. He studied the youngest of the sibling who was, to his astonishment, more calmed than afraid. “He risked everything, he’d risk his sister’s life and he would sacrifice his own just to help me recover what I’ve lost”. 

Jojen caught Bran looking at them and gave him a smile and an understanding nod. Bran did not return the smile but he did nod back. “Thank you,” the boy wanted to say, but Meera was there, even though some part of him urged to tell the young woman the truth.

After awhile, they finally started to move, slowly, across the open snowfield that leads straight to the trees’ roots. Hodor, Bran and Summer were ahead of the Reeds, as the young prince desired. If there was something coming for them, he didn’t mind being the first to walk into danger. 

Steadily, they were approaching the cave under the hill where the tree stood. Bran was halfway through the snowfield, at that point he was starting to wonder if there was any danger to expect, looking around he found there was nothing alive on sight. “No birds…nothing. In an open ground like this, we can see what comes for us,” the boy thought. “At the first sight of danger, if there is any, we’ll run towards the cave,” he decided, still hopeful that they will all make it together. 

But suddenly, something popped out of the snowy ground. A figure, with skeletal structure and covered with rotten flesh and snow, emerged between Bran and the Reeds. Hodor hodored and Meera gasped. She began reaching her weapon, but before she could respond, that thing drove both the siblings to the ground. 

Meera managed to pull herself back on her feet and fought it with an axe. All of the sudden, more of those things appeared, there were too many for Meera to handle alone. “Hodor helped them,” the prince commanded the stable boy. “Hodor” 

But despite his compelling physique, Hodor was far less brave than the boy three times smaller. Bran groaned, irritated, and warged into giant and participated the fray. There was fighting all around. Hodor (Bran), with the former’s sheer size and strength, was able to take on multiple of the attackers at once. All the while, Summer was protecting his master’s body. The Reeds were doing not so well, however, as Meera had to protect Jojen from two of those things. 

The younger Reed tried to help, but his sister noticed, deemed him too sick to fight, and shoved him away. Her push made the young man to lose his balance and fall to the ground. The fighting went on whilst the crannogman watches, lying on the snow. He did not intervene and did not move, then an arm emerged from the ground beside, him with a dagger at hand, and he was stabbed. 

Meera heard a groan, turned to her brother, and watched in horror as blood spurted out of his stomach. She flashed in anger and slashed the arm away. From a short distance, Hodor (Bran) stood and saw what he dreaded, Jojen lies dying in his sister’s arm. He looked around and saw that more were coming, too many for them to beat back. 

“It’s hopeless,” Bran realized, Hodor would never carry him out in time and it seemed that Meera was losing herself. Just when he was about to give up, a bolt of fire blasted the monsters into charred bones. He looked towards the direction where it came, to an odd looking girl in ragged cloak.

“Get inside!” she told them. 

Bran did exactly that and, still using Hodor as a vessel, pull his lifeless body away from danger as he looked back to his crannog friends. “Meera, Jojen! Get out of there!” he wanted to shout at them, but as Hodor, he couldn’t. 

Meera was still on her knees, crying for her brother to stay with her. But the young man seemed to have accepted his fate and told her sister to run for safety. Meera shook her head and whimpered, “I’m not leaving you.” 

Jojen’s cold hand reached his sister’s cheek and started caressing her face. “We are crannogmen, we’re small but proud,” he breathed as his sister’s tears landed on his face. “Let me go, please.” 

The mysterious girl started firing more bolts when more of those things started to gather. “Meera! Jojen! ” Bran cried upon regaining his consciousness. 

Across the field, Jojen picked the same dagger that was used to mortally wound him and raised it for his sister to take. Meera hold the dagger, touching her brother’s hand. “Stay with me, you’ll die. Go with Bran, you’ll live,” he coughed blood, prompting more tears from Meera. “You’ll be fine,” he said with a smile, blood coursing across his lips. His sister only nodded and kissed his forehead. In an act of mercy, the young woman took the dagger and ended her brother’s life with a single stroke. 

Meera got back on her feet and made a swift run towards the cave. She narrowly escaped her pursuers and reunited with Bran and the others. When the monsters enter the cave, they shattered into pieces. “The powers that created them will not work here,” their rescuer informed them.

Bran looked to Hodor, who was panting from all the running and fighting he made the giant do, and then to Meera, who was sobbing over her loss. He wanted to offer his condolences but this was hardly the time and place. Looking at his rescuer, he asked who she was. 

“Leaf,” she said plainly, “I’m one of the few remaining Children of the Forest.” The last part took Bran by surprise, who assumed that her kind was already extinct. 

“Come with me, all of you, he’s waiting,” she spoke again before disappearing into the shadow. 

Reluctantly, they followed. Hodor carried Bran deeper into the cave, whilst Meera and Summer walk behind them. The tunnel led them to an old man entangled inside the root of the tree above them. 

“You’re the three-eyed-raven,” Bran realized when Hodor placed him before the elder. The latter admitted that he was indeed. 

Meera suddenly spoke, “my brother died bringing Bran to you…” 

“Jojen Reed knew what awaited him before he left home, but he went anyway,” the old man cut in. 

Bran assured them that he never wanted anyone to die for him. “He did it so that he could bring back you have lost,” the old man replied. 

“You’re going to help me walk again?” the boy asked.

“You’ll never walk again, but you will fly,” the elderly man answered.

“So it’s true…what Jojen said was true,” Bran breathed. 

“You’ve arrived, but the hour is late. You’re training begins now,” the old man pointed at the roots near the boy, “grab them when you’re ready.” When he finished, he turned to   
Leaf. “Brandon Stark and I require a moment alone and silence, take them, see to it that they are fed and rested,” he said, referring to the boy’s companions. 

Before they leave, Bran looked at Meera, “If I want to say “I’m sorry”, I should start now,” he thought. But when he tried to reach her, she swept his hand away and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, I hope you guys like it. I'm glad that there are people who're enjoying this just as much as I do, even though it's a bit amateurish, so I want to give a big "thank you" for all of your feedback and support and I'll try my best to make it better. :'D


	10. Broken Fellowship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. 
> 
> Disclaimer  
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honour goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 
> 
> My response to the comments from last chapter:  
> Dreamsthatglitter1>Much appreciated as always and I'll keep doing my best  
> Iuvenal>Indeed;_; and thank you  
> jmfugate>Thanks, I also read your work and I like it alot, hope you update yours as well

Meera's POV

She was back at home again. It seemed that memory of home is the only place where she could find solace. She remembered a time when she was where she belonged, a time when she was still a huntress of the Neck and a sister to a boy she could call “brother”. Jojen Reed was solemn and atypically mature for his age. Though Meera was years his senior, he made her feel like she’s actually younger than he was. 

Her parents were there as well. Her lady mother, Jyana Reed, was benevolent as both a person and a parent, the former a trait which Meera inherited. Her lord father, Howland Reed, taught her everything she needed to know to be the proficient huntress that she has become. 

Life in the Neck was simpler. There were no knights or maesters or any of the fancy sorts, only ordinary folks. Greywater Watch was plentiful of fishermen, hunters, foragers and so forth. Everyone had their duties but they worked hard and they looked after one another. 

But now she was one brother short and thousands of leagues away from home, alone in a land she was growing weary of. Maybe not alone, but the company she had was the company she undesired. 

For many times she had thought about leaving, bringing word of Jojen’s passing to their parents. She wondered how they would react to this news. “Will they blame me for failing to protect Jojen,” she dared consider the possibility. Perhaps she would be banished from the Neck for it. “Then where will I go?” she dejected. 

Looking back, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the foolish one. She had been excited when she left Greywater, eager to see the world beyond the Neck. But now the joke was on her. She lost a brother and was longing for home but she’s stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a cripple boy and his halfwit servant and direwolf. Suddenly a door behind her creaked open, “speak of the devil,” she thought. 

Brandon Stark used to be a boy, green and innocent, but now he has grown into a healthy young man. He’s become taller, perhaps even taller than herself, and the childish plump face of his was replaced with a handsome and longer feature, typical of a Stark. “It’s not safe out here,” he spoke in that deepened voice of his. 

She’d figured that was the first thing he would say. She had been out for quite some time and he’s the only person in this gods forsaken land that would care enough to notice. The three-eyed-raven wouldn’t bother with what becomes of her and so does the Children of the Forest. To them, Bran’s well being was the only thing that mattered. 

“I’m just a tool,” she thought bitterly. Hodor might care, he had been nice to her throughout their journey, then again, he’s nice to everyone he meets. Summer is an animal, whose loyalty is to his own instincts and his master only.

“It’s not safe anywhere,” she said without looking at Bran.

It fell silent for a while until Bran began, “I just found out that Hodor wasn’t always Hodor.”

“Hodor,” the giant spoke up, with an amused grin. 

“No doubt he’s having visions of Winterfell again,” Meera thought. The three-eyed-raven has been helping Bran to sharpen his abilities as well as teaching him new ones. All this effort was so that the boy could succeed the old man as the “three-eyed-raven”. One of the newer abilities the boy learned was to look into the past by becoming one with a weirwood tree. Apparently, this was made possible thanks to the trees’ unnatural ability to defy the laws of time. At least that was what Brandon told her. Because no matter how he tried to explain it, Meera could never really comprehend its concept. 

“His training is the only thing he liked to talk about these days,” Meera sighed. 

The boy went on, “I learned that Hodor’s real name is Wylis, and that he could fight and-“, but then he stopped short when Meera gave him a frustrated look. 

“The three-eyed-raven said there’s a war coming”

“And you’re going to fight it in there?” Meera grinned scornfully. She didn’t want to listen to him talking about his training. Jojen died bringing him here and for what? They’ve accomplished nothing in the past months. She shook her head and tsked before turning away. Thankfully, Bran got the message the she’s not to be disturbed, and so he signalled Hodor to carry him, and they left. “Finally, silence and solitude,” she sighed. But she wasn’t alone just yet. 

“Brandon Stark needs you,” a voice made her turn left, to the peculiar Leaf, sitting behind a frostbitten shrub. 

“Why? I sit there, watch him have his visions and nothing ever happens” 

Leaf smiled and added, “He won’t stay here for long. Out there, he will need you.” 

“I need him too,” the Lady Reed mused. Bran knew the way south so she needed him to guide her back home. A part of herself urged her to remain by the boy’s side out of her sense of duty to the service of his House. Another part knew that she owed him much for keeping her alive so far. “Had it not been for him, I would’ve been dead long before we reach the Wall,” she reflected. It gave her an odd feeling of relief to know that she still have some part to play here. But it still did not change the fact that Jojen was gone. 

“Do you blame Bran for his death?” Leaf suddenly asked. 

“Whose?” Meera asked even though she already knew the answer. When the child did not respond, the huntress sighed and admitted, “No, I don’t blame anyone”.

“Good,” Leaf smiled. 

“How is it good? I may not blame him but it doesn’t mean that I believe in this madness anymore,” Meera snapped. “Jojen knew what he was in for, and went with it anyway, but it still hurts that he never told me about it,” she started sobbing when memories of Jojen’s death returns to her conscious, “Had I knew, I would’ve never left the Neck and I would gladly have Jojen tied up at home just to make sure he stays”. 

Leaf looked at her with great sympathy. “I understand-,” Meera cut in before the child could finish.

“How could you understand? Have you ever lost someone you love?” Meera cried as she began to tremble, the pain was too much.

Leaf did not speak but only looked around, from the dying grove to the frozen undergrowth, before she finally admitted, “You’re right. I can never know how you feel.”

Meera detected a hint of sarcasm in the child’s tone, but she didn’t cared enough to bring it up.

“However,” Leaf started again, “I do know someone else who might.” 

“Bran,” Meera breathed. “There’s no one else that I could relate to.” 

“Yes,” Leaf said as she stood up. “If you don’t want my company, then perhaps you should go to Bran’s. You should share your pain with someone who understands instead of keeping it to yourself”. 

“I...suppose I should do that,” she mulled it over, wiping her tears. Leaf gave her one last smile before she left. 

“Come to think of it, we rarely talk since…since Jojen,” Meera realized. She stayed there for a while longer before retreating back into the cave.

…..

When Meera found Bran, the boy was sitting comfortably at the cave’s entrance (not the backdoor), but he wasn’t alone. Some of the Children were gathering around him, looking at him with curious eyes. It couldn’t be helped that they have never seen a human boy before or at least in a very long time, but Meera doesn’t like the way they were flocking him. The fact that they were all girls, or that they have visually feminine features, made Meera slightly less comfortable. 

Surprisingly, Bran doesn’t seem to mind them. They were whispering something to each other, though Meera couldn’t hear what, and giggling for whatever reasons. Something that they said also made the boy laugh. They were also touching his skin and gently pulling his hair as if these were the strangest things. 

When Meera finally had enough, the young woman shooed them away. “Leave him be,” she demanded. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t intimidated by her but they fled nonetheless, gleefully running away as if Meera was going to catch them. The young woman couldn’t help but to smile at this sight, “they are children at heart, despite how old they really are”. 

She caught Bran staring at her, which prompts her to ask why. “It’s been a while since I last saw you smile, that's all,” he said before turning away from her gaze. 

“Yes, it’s comforting actually,” Meera had to admit it. They fell into silence as they struggled to find the next words to say. Finally, she settled by asking the boy, “So…why are you here?”

It took almost an instant before Bran replied, “Training’s done today…,” he stopped to blush, embarrassed over his apparent apprehension. 

Meera sat in front of him, chuckled as she did and spoke, “Look at us. It’s as if we’re complete strangers.”

The crippled boy grinned, “Yes well… This is common when people don’t speak to each other for some time,” he said back. “We haven’t really talked much after…” the boy paused before he could say the words.

“After Jojen died,” Meera finished his sentence. Her face showed that she was indifferent but her heart was aching. She received a solicitous look from the boy in front of her.

“I’m very sorry,” he uttered. 

“It’s alright,” she said, trying to sound casual. 

“No, it’s not, I should’ve said something after your loss, you were in so much pain when I should’ve done something”

“You did approach me, but I pushed you away,” she admitted. “I was selfish, so forgive me.” 

“There’s nothing to apologize, I know how it feels to lose someone.” Suddenly a ray of light beamed at them, temporarily blinding their visions before their eyes finally adjusted to its luminosity, and a beautiful sunset was upon them to behold. 

They looked each other, with an approving smile, before turning back to indulge the view. The sun shined bright upon the sky, though the cold air obscured it a bit and it didn’t give out much warmth, but there was enough wonder to awe them. The way it radiated a deep mixture of crimson and gold light made the dull vastness of the north looked more stunning. Meera was at such an ease that she didn’t mind resting her head on Bran’s shoulder. “I’m not fond with this place but I could sure use more of this colour,” she breathed and sighed in relief. 

“So do I,” she could hear the boy whispered. 

As her eyes wandered around, looking at every part that was shined by the light, they became fixed to the spot where Jojen died. Her brother’s remain was gone, after it was incinerated by Leaf to prevent him from coming back. Astonishingly, the sight didn’t give her bad memories of his demise, but instead she pictured Jojen’s face, alive and well and smiling back at her. It gave her peace.

It was silent again, but a pleasant kind, there were only the soft winds of the north and Bran’s light breathing to hear. Just the kind of quiet she needed. Inevitably the silence did not last. After they remained in that position for some time, Bran broke the silence.

“There’s something I want to say to you Meera,” the young woman looked up when he spoke, to find his curiously troubled face. 

“What is it?”

“I…need to tell you something that I should’ve said to you, a confession if you will,” Bran looked at her nervously. 

Meera had her shoulder rested against his chest and she could sense the growingly rapid beating of his heart. “What is it?” She repeated as she too was growing anxious. She began making wild and unreasonable assumptions of what he was going to say. 

“I wanted to say sorry…about Jojen,” much to her disappointment, it wasn’t what she presumed it to be. “This has been bothering for a long time, but I figured it should be now or never.”

Meera lightly giggled, “Bran, I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re sorry, there’s no need to tell me. But I appreciate your concern”. 

“N…no, it’s not that”

“What do you mean?”

“First, let me say "I'm sorry"…”

“By the old gods Bran, you’re starting to worry me…” 

“I…wanted to apologize for not telling you sooner,” at this point, Meera raised her head from Bran’s shoulder to look at him eye-to-eye. 

“You mean…you knew?” she asked him in disbelief, her smile was fading. 

Bran remained quiet for a moment, which made her snap, “Bran! Tell me you didn’t know.”

Reluctantly, Bran slowly shook his head and Meera immediately pushed him, causing him to fall. 

“Meera…” Bran uttered, lying on the ground. The young woman was on her feet and standing at the cave entrance. 

The light of the sun shined the tears gathering in her eyes. She started tittering. “And here I thought you were a friend,” she breathed. 

“I…I am,” Bran assured her. 

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” she burst in anger.

“I-I didn’t want to get you hurt”.

“You’ve done a marvellous job,” she spoke in a trembling voice. 

“I promised Jojen…”

“So you kept your promise to his grave, for the sake your honour? Truly, you Starks are as cold as ice,” she shook her head in utter disbelief. 

“That’s not true…”

“I’m just an expendable servant to you. I’m just a tool to get you what you wanted, just like Jojen and Hodor,” without turning, her feet started pulling back to the cave, slowly moving away from Bran. 

“No! I never looked you that way! Or Jojen, or Hodor, I swear!”

“Pardon me Lord Stark, but I can only stomach enough lies for one day, I’ve had my fair share from Jojen,” with that, Meera ran back into the cave.

Bran cried out Meera’s name but she didn’t turn back. “It’s too late, he’ll never forgive me,” she sobbed. After all the things she said, she could only ask herself, “Oh Meera, was it truly you who said those horrible things?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment?...


	11. "Hodor"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing.  
> Disclaimer  
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honor goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.
> 
> Responses to comments from last chapter:  
> Dreamsthatglitter1: You're welcome, people's feedback always make my day (I'm always excited to read comments on my work) and I love you for sticking up this far :D  
> jmfugate: Indeed, I though it would be more compelling and believable to see that Meera have a bit of an issue with the fact that Jojen died because of Bran, of course they will reconcile eventually. How insightful of you and thanks a lot for sharing. ;)

Bran’s POV

Whenever Bran looked at Meera, the latter always, in turn, avert his gaze, signifying the end of the friendship that he had valued from the moment they met. Ever since he admitted that he’d known about Jojen’s impending death and kept it a secret, Meera refuses to talk to him. The young man had done the best in his abilities to reconcile with her, but he was denied at every approach. 

“It’s over,” he despaired, sitting next to his giant of a servant. 

“Hodor?” the simple-minded stable boy looked at him with curious eyes. But no matter how inquisitive the man may seem, the boy wouldn’t bother with him.

“You won’t understand what I say,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

Bran was in need of another’s company, but after coming to Hodor, he knew that it was Meera he needed to talk to. The memory of what happened a few days ago, when Meera pushed him to the ground in anger, he felt his heart gnawing. The bitterness in his chest was more repulsive when he remembered how she cried, and he knew he was the source of her pain. 

“I need to get things sorted with that woman,” the boy decided. 

“But how?” a soft voice in his mind spoke. As he pondered, he felt the roughness in his hand and looked to see that it was resting against a root. Looking at it, Bran saw that it stretched far from the cave’s ceiling and he knew that it belonged to the white tree on top of them. The roots were so long and came in abundance; they reminded him of the ones that surround the three-eyed-raven. 

“That’s it!” Bran realized. 

“Hodor!”

His training with the old man, particularly the one where he’d travel to the past was one of the most amazing experiences he ever had. “I could take Meera with me the next time I go back,” he began considering the possibility. He knew just how much Meera longed to return to her home, perhaps taking the young woman on a trip back to her girlhood at Greywater Watch could help brighten her day and possibly gain him her forgiveness. 

But then he realized that he left out one crucial part to this idea; he never go back without the old man’s supervision. “It’s dangerous to wander through the passages of time by yourself,” as the old man would say when reminding him that he’s not yet ready. But then again, the elder never let him tried. 

“Next time, I will,” he decided. 

But before he could begin with his plan, he heard footsteps. Anxiously, he wondered if it was Meera and feared the prospect of facing her. 

“Hodor?” the giant looked at him, wondering what he was doing.

“Stay there, Hodor,” the young man ordered as he drags himself and hides behind the thick roots. 

Meera’s POV

Two nights have passed since she last spoke to Bran. After all the things she said to him, the young woman could only assume that the boy has grown to hate her. The way she said about her own brother and how she regarded him were absolutely in bad taste that the huntress herself could not believe that they were words of her own. 

Whenever she caught him looking at her, she could only imagine how the boy would think of her. “Nothing pleasant, no doubt,” she’d thought and look away. And whenever it seemed that Bran was close, Meera would keep herself from him. 

Things were going well that day; they were enjoying each other’s company, until her untimely outburst ruined everything for the both of them. Though it was out of the shocking revelation that Bran had kept secrets from her, but Meera didn’t have to go that far. “I wasn’t thinking back then,” she sighed. 

Looking around, Meera found that she was all by herself again. She needed company, she needed someone to speak to, but Bran was completely out of the question. She stood up and started wandering around the cave, looking for someone to talk to. There were many tunnels that led to many parts of the cave, only two ways that could lead her out. Thankfully the cavernous network wasn’t quite big enough to get lost in and Meera had lived there long enough to know which paths lead to where. 

After roaming around she stumbled upon a few of the Children playing stones near the three-eyed-raven. The old man was asleep. Unfortunately the girls could only speak in a language that was alien to Meera, so the young woman knew no way of approaching them. 

Leaf was one of the few who could speak the Common Tongue, she had proven to make a decent company at times, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Summer passed her a few moments ago. At first she tried to play with the direwolf, but then she took off the moment she realized that if the canine’s here then his master should be close by. “I can’t face him,” she said, in truth she’s afraid to face him.

Finally she bumped into Hodor. The tall stable boy was sitting by himself and it seemed that he was deep in his own thought. When Meera greeted him, he turned to her, stunned at first, but then he greeted her back with a smile that displayed his crooked teeth. 

“Mind if I sit here?” she asked pointing a spot right beside him.

“Hodor,” whether he meant “yes” or “no” Meera couldn’t tell, but his gleeful smile looked welcoming enough. 

“There’s nothing to see here and nothing to do, don’t you ever get tired of this place?”

“Hodor,” the giant nodded. 

“Can’t wait to leave and go back home”

“Hodor,” the giant started to chortle with a grin. 

“Bet you like that too, don’t you?” Meera began to smile. Lately, it’s been difficult to smile. “When I get back I want to hold my mother and father as if the world’s ending, what about you Hodor? What’s the first thing you’d do when you’re back at Winterfell again?”

“Hodor,” he grinned and Meera laughed. 

“I always wonder what it would be like when we get back, surely it would be great, but it will never be the same for me, now that Jojen is gone,” her heart started to ache. 

The young woman continued, “I wonder if all adventurers feel the same, like the ones in the stories they used to tell. Coming back from so many dangers, some even lost their loved ones, they must’ve returned as complete strangers. I’m sure when, or if I ever, get back to the Neck I’ll return as a completely different person. I wonder if I could just settle after all the things I've been through.”

She looked at Hodor and wondered, “How will we part our ways? We’ve been through so much together.”

“Hodor”

“I know I’ll miss you too, Hodor.”

“Hodor,” suddenly the stable boy looked sad. But Meera gave him a pat on his shoulder and an earnest smile.

“Don’t worry. I’ll come visit you at Winterfell sometimes.” Her words made him sigh in relief, which only made her smile even more. 

Meera looked up to stare at the ceiling and sighed as well. After a moment of silence, she spoke again, “And what of Bran?”

“Hodor?” he gave her a puzzled look.

“We’ll no doubt shake our hands but I don’t believe he’ll ever say farewell. I have nothing against Bran. It’s just that…I fear that we’re no longer friends”

This time Hodor didn’t respond but he quieted down and listens. It made Meera feel glad that she decided to talk to the giant.

“I had an argument with him, or perhaps you could say that I had an argument with life. Ever since Jojen died I shifted the blame on the prince. Recently I’ve learned that he knew what was coming the whole time, I was angry and so I more or less said things that I came to regret. I told him that he only deemed me as an inessential tool to his own end.” 

“Hodor” 

“Indeed, and worst, I pushed him and told him how I was certain that he never cared for me, Jojen or you, before I ran out on him.”

Hodor spoke no further, but Meera didn’t wait for him to. “I’m sorry for saying those things about you and Jojen”

“Hodor,” the smile he gave her made her knew that she was forgiven, and it made her feel better. 

“Now all that is left is to apologize Bran for what I said,” Meera mulled over how she would do it. First, of course, she would have to approach him. “I don’t know if he’d let me get close to him, let alone accept my apology,” she thought nervously. 

“Hodor, Hodor,” it’s as if he’s telling her that she can do it. 

Meera nodded. “I never told him this, but his friendship is precious to me. The last thing I want right now is for us to be apart.” 

Hodor looked a bit stunned, a reaction which the young woman didn’t anticipate, but she went on nonetheless. “If Bran was here I would tell him how I regret every single word I said to him, how much he means to me, that I forgive him and how I sincerely hope that he’ll do the same for me,” Meera breathed.

Suddenly, beyond her anticipation, Hodor moved closer and gave her a hug. His long arms and his massive body gave her much warmth as his fur coat gave her just as much comfort. “Hodor?” she didn’t seem to be bothered by the giant’s sudden move but instead she felt at peace. They remained there for a while before the giant’s stomach started growling.

The giant’s nervous chortle made the huntress chuckle. “That’s a call we can’t ignore, come let’s go find something to eat!” the young woman declared, jumping on her feet. 

Bran’s POV

Hodor stood up as well and went following the young huntress. As they were leaving the cavern, Hodor suddenly stopped, unnoticed by Meera who looked at him and gestured him to follow, “come on Hodor, let’s go get something to eat”. 

Hodor looked confused for a moment but after she mentioned “food” he did not hesitate to follow her and began cheerfully chanting “Hodor”. 

As they disappeared into the tunnel, with Meera’s voice echoing “rabbits of pheasants?” unaware that their departure was being observed by the watchful eyes of a smiling young prince. 

“I forgive you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the wait. It might take a while before I update again. Hope you all understand that this work is approaching its end, I'm aiming for not more that 15 chapters. :) And of course hope you enjoy and please leave a comment.


	12. I Don't Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with my exam and effectively rid myself of any hindrance. To those of you who're still following I'm sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. Rest assured I'm back to my usual writing schedule and will finish this story.
> 
> As always, English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. 
> 
> I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honor goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 
> 
> Responding to comments from last chapter (because I hate filling the comment section with words of my own)  
> 1) thebogdevil: Thanks for the feedback I really appreciate it. Oh, and I don't see anything wrong with your English so no need to apologize, I can relate.  
> 2)noone: A boy appreciates a girl's feedback and hopes he'll do better

Meera was lost, tired and cold, traversing the unforgiving land beyond the Wall and against the cold blowing winds of the north with the weight of Brandon Stark at her burden. She had marched for miles and had not stop to rest since they left the cave, the underground shelter that had been their sanctuary for so long. It’s no secret that she was not very fond of that place, not a day goes by without her ever thought about leaving for home. Sobbing, she now got what she wanted, but not in the way that she’d hoped. 

Earlier that day, Bran wandered into the past alone without his mentor’s consent. There he encountered the Night King, the supposed leader of the White Walkers, possibly the first of its kind, and the one responsible of the dead’s unrest. The dreadful king had Bran marked with an enchantment that rifted the ward that have protected the cave they lived in. Consequently, the Night King and his spawn were able to breach their sanctuary without being harmed by its magic and slaughtered almost everyone but the prince and his huntress. Their humble hosts, the Children of the Forrest were all butchered in that cave. Bran’s mentor, the three-eyed-raven and the last Greenseer, was also left to his own fate. Hodor and Summer, the fateful friends that had been alive at the time they first entered the cave, didn’t make it either. 

All of a sudden, a voice in her head told her that she was going to die, “by the cold or the undead, you’ll die unless you make a run for it”. Meera shook her head and the thought away, but the voice kept coming back.

“I won’t,” the huntress breathed. 

Something got in the way of them and she stopped. “A small boulder perhaps?” whatever it was, it’s hidden well underneath snow. She tried to pull it out with all her might but the prince won’t budge and the struggle only exhausted whatever strength she has left. 

Finally, she fell to her knees and surrendered. Up ahead, a clear path in the forest is shown where the cold hazes gather less. “Your last chance,” said the voice in her head. “Why die for a lost cause?” It spoke the truth. Meera had lost her faith in their endeavor, Jojen’s vision, Bran’s paradoxical role in the upcoming struggle, all of it. But that was never the case.

“You misunderstood me, I could care less about the cause,” she admitted as she broke into tears. Slowly, she made her way to the sleeping price and sat close by his side. Her hands moved to reach his face, with one hand stroking his cheek and the other brushing his hair.

“Don’t you want to see your parents again? Don’t you wish to return to your people and dear Greywater Watch?” 

“I do” 

“Then why stay?”

Too many lives, both noble and common, have lost for petty causes. The war and the gods, old and new, have taken so many, why should she ever hope that it could be any better for her. 

It pained her to say it but, “For all I know, the war may have reached the Neck. And I may have no family, friends or people to go back to.” She stopped to take a breath, and continued, “Until I can confirm it, Bran is the only family I have left.”

“I’ve lost so many, I can’t lose him too,” Meera whimpered as she brushed the snow off of Bran’s hair. She could hear the voice in her head sigh and that was the last she heard from it. She rested herself beside the prince and whispered in his ear, “I need you now more than ever, please Bran, come back.” 

As if the gods have heard her plea, Bran’s empty eyes returned to its normal deep blues and, so awakened the prince himself and she immediately pulled herself away in astonishment. The young man caught her dumbstruck and began, “Meera…they found us…” 

Snarls and hisses could be heard, growing louder every second, as Meera looked up to see obscured silhouettes in the distant. “Wights,” the young woman realized that she had unknowingly led them towards their own doom. 

Bran looked around, slowly and wearily, then he asked her, “Hodor…Summer?”

“They’re gone,” Meera couldn’t bring herself to say, so she shook her head instead and uttered, “I’m sorry.” Bran lamented and despaired. “I’m so sorry,” Meera said again and began wrapping her arms around the young man’s neck. Without a moment to ponder, she buried her head in his chest and cried. 

The snarls grew louder and she was growing scared. Then she felt something on the back of her head. Judging its roughness and its shape, it took her a moment to realize that it was her prince’s hand. 

“He pulled me closer,” she thought, he pulled her to a warm embrace as her heart filled with relief. Either her tears have run dry or it was the warmth that Bran gave. Nevertheless, her crying stopped, the noises around them dampened, it wasn’t as cold as before and, more importantly, she was no longer afraid. She was at peace. She liked to think that it was Bran that made nothing else in the world mattered. “Is this what Jojen meant for happy ending?” she thought and it almost made her laugh. 

If this is how she was meant to die, by her prince’s side, then she doesn’t mind.

.....

What happened next, transpired too quick for her to follow. It was dark and difficult to see. After a moment she finally adjusted herself to the confusion and made out a quadruped shape mounted by a black form, followed by the sounds of her enemies’ snarls and hisses, blade meets flesh and bones and the whinnying of a horse. Their anonymous rescuer, armed with a scythe and a flail engulfed in flame, brought a quick end to the enemies around them. However with every enemy he slain, more of them emerged and coming in the distance. He wasn’t going to win this battle for sure, and so he bolted to their side.

The young woman tensed and smothered the prince when the rider approached them. “Come with me, now!” he said. 

Looking around them, Meera knew that she doesn’t have much of a choice. “The dead don’t rest,” the stranger said and pulled Bran on to his horse. She seated herself behind their rescuer and together they galloped away.


	13. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note  
> English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Response to last chapter's comments  
> Iuneval: Thank you :)  
> thebogdevil: Glad you enjoyed it overall and sorry about the time jump, I just felt there's no need to cover up ALL of the parts of Bran's arc from the show. Also I have to admit I don't feel comfortable writing about that part in the cave, that episode still haunts me to this day...for obvious reasons
> 
> This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected so I cut it into two parts...I just thought that Benjen should have more lines and interactions with Bran.

They sat in a cave, waiting for the storm to pass. As the third cave they’ve entered, Bran was amazed of how many there are in this side of The Wall. Rarely did they found any on their way to meet the Last Greenseer. “You only need to know where to look, the wildlings know how, small wonder they’re able to live here for so long,” those were his uncle’s word, the same uncle he’d assumed dead for so many years. 

The boy had been led to believe that his uncle Benjen died during a ranging Beyond the Wall. The news, however, only had the nugget of the truth. His uncle had indeed been ambushed by the White Walkers and left for dead in the cold, only to be brought back by the Children’s magic. Bran sipped the blood of his cup as he looked to inspect his uncle, who was building a fire for him. The warmth will do the boy good but it won’t be necessary for his uncle, at least not anymore. As a man who was raised from the dead, Benjen Stark bears the likeness of a White Walker. Not surprising since he was created in the same manner as those vile creatures. But while he had lost most of what makes him a man, his blood froze still and his heart ceased to beat, his memories remain intact same to his personality. 

Benjen Stark served the realm as a man of the Night’s Watch and continues to serve even in death. He now lives to see the demise of the Night King, and it means getting his nephew to the Wall, safely. When Benjen caught his nephew staring, the boy made a penitent face. But the uncle assured that he’s indifferent, “I understand how difficult it is for you”

“I find that hard to imagine,” Benjen Stark laughed at the remark but his nephew was less amused. The boy leaned closer to his uncle and began, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask”. 

“Ask away,” Benjen said, poking the fire he built with a stick. 

“Why did you come back? You’re watch ended and you’ve earned it, you’re free from the limits of the black brothers and deserve peace. Why did you insist on returning?” His first guess was that Benjen was raised against his will. But Bran was growing up and things weren’t as simple as it used to be. 

Benjen studied his nephew and gave a reply, “For certain, it’s not that I wanted to. I’ve readied myself, that night, for my eternal rest,” he paused to drop his fire poker and clapped the snow off his gloves. “But then the Children took me and reminded me of the duty I have. I knew for certain they were right, after all, I’ve died knowing a dreadful truth; the White Walkers exist. That is why I can’t allow myself to rest, not while the dead remain at large”. He looked to his nephew, world-weary eyes met a pair of summer green, and finished, “You saw them too, and you know they’re coming.” 

Bran nodded nervously, “I know what they can do.”

His uncle grinned and said, “It’s good that you are aware. But that’s only the cold winds Bran, and it’s not even winter. This one will usher something far worse than cold.”

“But The Wall, and the men that guards it, stands between them and the realm”

“Indeed, but you are needed there as well”

“Yes...about that,” Bran looked down and sighed. He remembered the night after his uncle saved him. The words Benjen said to him, “The three-eyed-raven lives again,” were clear in his memory.

It meant that, with the passing of his former mentor, Bran became the new three-eyed-raven. “But what does it mean?” he asked, “to be the three-eyed-raven?” 

“The three-eyed-raven existed since the early days of Westeros, possibly earlier, with the power to see all, against the laws of nature and time. What role he fits, or how his powers can be put into play, in the history of The Seven Kingdoms, that is an answer you have to discover yourself, Bran.” 

Bran sighed again, “I knew there’s a stipulation in all this.” 

“Some things aren’t easy Bran”

“Surely the same can be said for my own destiny, I mean…the Night King and his horde, I don’t know what it is you’re expecting of me but I can’t stop that,” Benjen thought his nephew looked more callow and scared than all the recruits of Castle Black. 

“Perhaps not, not alone,” the man assured him as he lifts his head and spirit up. 

“Of course, Jon will be there to help, I'm sure,” Bran managed a weak smile. Jon is his brother and it is in his duty.

“I was referring to someone else, actually,” his uncle said, gesturing at his friend who had snuggled down a few feet away from them. 

Bran smiled wider, “Yes, I’m glad she always has.”

“She’s brave, having willingly stayed by your side even in what could’ve been the end”. Indeed, Meera has proven that she’s capable and loyal. There's no doubt in Bran's mind that he would never made it this far without the huntress. 

“You know what they say about crannogmen, they’re small and rather peculiar folk, but they’re just as strong and proud as northmen”

Benjen seemed surprised, “Oh? So she’s from the Neck?”

“She’s Meera Reed, heiress of Greywater Watch,” Bran asserted.

The prince noticed how his uncle reacted to this with a stunned face and his smile slowly disappears. “Reed hmm?” the man said, stroking his black beard, “This is…interesting.”

“How so?” he had to ask.

For a moment, Benjen did not spoke, but then he shook his head and said, “It’s nothing”. Bran could see pass this lie, a talent he earned in his time abed in his room, after his fall. Robb and Maester Luwin made the same face, to masquerade their lies, just as Meera did after her brother died.

Thinking about Meera reminded him of her grief, something that concerned him more than whatever secrets his uncle keeps. Whatever his uncle’s hiding, Bran was certain it’s nothing of great importance or something he’ll later find out. “Perhaps he knew Meera’s father, or that he find it odd for a crannog-woman to follow me to the end of the world,” the boy assumed. He turned to Meera with a worried face and recollected how they almost died if it hadn’t been for his uncle’s untimely rescue, which in turn reminded him to thank his uncle. 

“I did what I have to for the realm and what I have to do as an uncle,” Benjen said and smiled. “Right now I’m a bit concerned about your friend, haven’t seen her talk or eat much, or is it just her.”

“No,” Bran knew her better, “She’s not always like this.” She used to be very happy, who smiled a lot and could laugh at even the most trivial things. But that was before her loss, for Jojen meant the world to her. 

“Well, it’s the way of the world. You don’t stay a child forever,” Benjen had the truth of it. When Bran lost his family and Winterfell, he lost his world and everything went dark. But then he met Meera, who brought him cheers and serenity whenever she smiles. For Bran, Meera thought him hope and joy again. When she laughs, his brothers are with him. When she smiles, he saw Arya. When they embraced, he felt his parents. It’s as if everything Meera did made him feel like a child at home again, with his family. But when she lost her world, there was no child in him left and no home and family to go back to. 

It pained him to see her like this. The loss she suffered cost her spirit and their friendship, a bond he valued greatly. “She shed light to my world,” and he knew what he must do, “I shall return the favor. Once and for all, this has gone on long enough”. If she had to grieve, he wouldn’t want her to mourn alone. If only she’d let him.


	14. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, English is not my native language so expect a lot of errors and cheese. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Of course, I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honor goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin.

“Do you hate me? Meera?” it came too sudden that Meera could only stare at Bran in disbelief. 

“How could you say that?” she asked grimly. 

The boy shrugged, “Just thought you do…I mean you keep avoiding and ignoring me.” 

“For you to go that far…I don’t hate you Bran”

“But you are angry at me,” he gave her a look that was too hard to ignore. 

“I…,” she paused to think it through, and finally confessed, “I did, I placed the blame of Jojen’s demise on you, but that was out of my own anger. It was foolish of me I know…”

“You have the right to hate me, it’s my fault,” the young prince cut in.

He took her by surprise. “What are you saying?” she thought. “No! It’s not right! Don’t speak of such folly Bran! It’s not your fault.”

“Jojen died for my sake…”

This time, Meera cut in, “He died because he knew that you must live, you needed to get to the three-eyed-raven. He died for a noble cause…but I…I didn’t realize this…I just wish that I did sooner.” She stopped to look at her feet as the guilt wash over her. Bran silenced and listened. “Forgive me for being selfish. I allowed myself to despair and it cost me our friendship. But that doesn’t mean I wanted to, I valued or friendship just as much as I love my brother. I need you to know that and I hope you wanted the same.” 

Bran took a deep breath and exhaled. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, shocking Meera.

“Wh-What?” she asked again in disbelief which made the young prince laugh. 

“I knew you do Meera, I just wanted to hear it from you, eye-to-eye.”

“You…you knew?”

He nodded, “not too long ago.”

“What? Since when?” she asked and he laughed again.

“I…I sort of overheard you talking to Hodor…”

“Sort of?” she gave him a look. “You were eavesdropping on us?”

“Eavesdropping is an exaggeration given that I was already there to begin with”

“Then why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me”

…..

“So there’s nothing then? He was never mad at me?” As if she couldn’t believe it, Meera let her jaw drops, but somehow she felt relieved. “All this time I thought you hated me and you thought it was the other way around,” she found the irony somewhat hilarious and started to laugh. Bran laughed as well. When they finally stopped, Meera asked, “So I’m forgiven then, just like that?”

“Meera,” he began, “As far as I’m concerned, you were never at fault. I’m the one who should apologize.”

She waved her hand, “No stop,” she said. “Let’s not go there,” she thought, they’re going well so far and she didn’t want it to end. 

Suddenly the wind blew again. Meera felt cold and sat next to the young man. She rested her head on his shoulder as he gently moves to offer her space. “You know, the last we’re like this it ended with you pushing me to the ground,” said the cripple.

Meera giggled. “It won’t happen again I promise, so long as you don’t have anything hidden from me again.”

Bran smiled, “That was a mistake, I won’t repeat. You’re not angry at me still?”

“Oh, a little, mostly because I can’t believe that all this time I’ve been scared for absolutely nothing. I would’ve been glad if I had learned sooner. But it doesn’t matter, regardless of what cause you’d give to anger me, it’s impossible for me to love you less.”

That last part almost choked Bran, “I’m sorry…?”

She looked at him, confused, until she realized what she’d said. “Like! Like you less! Oh seven hells Bran, you know what I meant,” she rephrased as she pinched his nose. 

“Of course, forgive me,” he said, begging her to let go. 

Meera made herself chuckle and released her grasp. As Bran rubbed the sore of his nose, the huntress snuggled herself next to him and felt a familiar comfort and warmth. The feeling, “It was the night after the cave,” she recalled, when they were surrounded by their enemies and she had plunged herself into a long warm embrace with the young man. Looking back she was glad that she did, else she might have given in to fear. What made her more grateful was the fact that the prince pulled her in and accepted her as well. Even now, his embrace and presence gave her a strange sense of serenity and she hoped that she made him feel the same. After a while, the tranquility made her fell asleep. 

…..

Gently stroking Meera’s long curly hair, Bran felt calm watching her sleep despite dire times ahead. He hoped that his uncle wouldn’t catch them like this. “Please, let us stay like this a little longer,” he prayed. 

He decided that he liked watching her. Every bit of detail on Meera’s face, her light freckles and her glistening cheeks, the shape of her nose even the healing scar bellow her sleeping eyes. Her pink lips enthralled him the most, which looked just as soft as it felt with a gentle finger touch. Against his own conscious, Bran leaned slowly closer to her face. “I know I shouldn’t,” but he wanted to. Even after he stopped at the last second, with their lips less than an inch away from each other, he yearned for it. 

“What would you do if I tell you that I like you?” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I ended this chapter a little too quick and short, sorry about that I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Please let me know what you think.


	15. Relish the Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, English is not my native language so please lower your expectation. Don’t be shy to give criticism if you have any, your feedback will help me improve my writing. I do not own the “A song of Ice and Fire” series, and any of its adaptations, the honor goes to the brilliant and visionary novelist George RR Martin. 
> 
> Response to comments from last chapter  
> SpiritOfSherwood: Lol don't we all? Thank you so much for sharing   
> Iuneval: Thank you so much for following me this far, glad you enjoyed it and I appreciate your positive feedback. Means so much to me, thank you
> 
> Fuhh...here we go..

“How about pets, ever had any?”

“I kept a frog once but I’m not sure that counts,” said Meera. 

“Frog?” Bran asked, almost bewildered. 

“Oh yes, we have no short of frogs in the Neck. Kept it in a jar for a few days and even took the liberty of naming it Jyqen. Though I had to release it back to the wild the moment my mother knew I had it.”

“Jyqen?” the young prince had to wonder, “Named it after someone?”

“A boy” 

Bran snorted, “Figures”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” Meera giggled, “He broke my heart few years back when he said I was too…unladylike for his taste.” 

“I think you and Arya would get along very well,” the boy thought. 

The young woman then turned to him, “And you?”

“Summer wasn’t a pet, he was more than a friend…he’s like part of me actually,” Bran said with a heavy heart. As always the Lady of the Neck could sense his grief and tried to reach for his hand. The boy quickly realized this and pulled his hand away in time, giving her a reassuring smile instead. “I did have a filly named Dancer. She could respond to my touch, whistle and rein without ever using my legs.” 

 

“She sounds quite a beast, probably clever like this one,” Meera said as she ruffled the mane of Benjen’s horse, the one Bran was mounting on. Walking around as she pulls its reins, she asked, “Who taught her that?”

“Our Master of Horse trained her, but it was Queen Cersei’s brother who thought of the idea. I know I’m supposed to hate the Lannisters just as Robb and Theon told me to, but I kind of like that dwarf.” 

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a dwarf…”

“Because you’ve never left the Neck before,” Bran jested. He yelped when the young woman pinched his arm. 

“That’s right,” she said after letting go of his arm.

“But I’m sure you have no short of companies there”

“Indeed,” no surprise there, Bran thought it was hard not to like someone as pleasant and good natured as Meera. “Have many friends there, boys and girls, young and old, lowborn and noble, I know almost everyone in Greywater Watch.” She looked at him and asked, “And you, my prince?” 

Bran let out a nervous chuckle. “Well I recognized almost everyone in the Keep, but I can’t say I have the pleasure of even knowing most of their names,” he answered.

Meera made a “tsk” before telling him, “That’s no good, a prince needs many friends”.

Bran rolled his eyes and said, “Perhaps you should show me how”

“It’s simple my prince, you can start by smiling more often” 

“I smile,” he objected, grinning. 

“You call that smiling?” 

Bran threw his arms in the air and said, “Fine then, show me how it’s done.” 

“Like this,” Meera said as she put up her ‘best’ smile in years. “Now you try,” she said, still smiling. 

Bran followed her lead and made a smile so wide it hurts his cheek. Unsurprisingly they couldn’t last a minute without breaking the silence with their roaring laughter. “You should see your face, Your Grace,” she said, out of breath. 

“So should you, Lady Reed,” Bran continued to laugh. 

Meera watched contently at her prince. “I like this, he’s happy and enjoying himself," she thought. “Unfortunately it won’t last.” She worried that the great struggle ahead will take its toll on him. Despite her concerns, she continued to smile. 

When Bran stopped, he looked at her with curious eyes and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Meera shook her head before answering, “I like the way you laugh.”

“Oh really?” he flushed in embarrassment. 

“It’s not just your laugh, but your smile as well. But I fear this will not last.”

The prince raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“My prince, you have a part to play in a war that will decide the fate of an entire continent and its people. A conflict of such scale could change a man.”

“I won’t change I promise”

“That’s not all. May I speak my mind?’ 

“It would be a shame if you didn’t” 

Meera laughed, “When this war is done, you might be Lord of Winterfell again. Gods forbid you might actually be the new King of the North.”

Bran scratches his head, “Is that a bad thing?”

Meera sighed, “I know for certain that you never took pleasure in your acting role as Lord of Winterfell, Your Grace. You said it before, you liked to climb and explore the grey walls of your home castle, which goes to show just how much of an adventurous thrill-seeker you are. You’re the type that couldn’t stay seated without urging to move, this whole ruling business bores you, depress you, I know.”

“You want me to be myself, with my brother a king and my legs crippled?”

“No, it’s just that I hate seeing you like this, having your fate arranged by others without a word of your own in it. I want you to be yourself and not pretending to be the prince you’re expected to be, because I know you’re better than this.” 

She finished and left Bran speechless. “I don’t know what to say."

“There’s nothing to say, just do Bran.”

Bran considered it for a moment until he came to a decision. He crossed his arms and began, blushing as he did, “I will only be myself around you but you have to be yourself around me too. That means whatever problem you may have, or whatever needs you require, you can take them to me. But you can’t leave my side.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I…I mean,” Bran cursed himself, “You can take leave for the Neck anytime you want, I just…I want you to be at Winterfell when I need you.” He took a deep breath when he finished. “With most of my family gone, my parents, my siblings, Summer and Hodor, you’re the only one I have,” he felt too embarrassed to say it. 

When he’s done, Meera smiled, “Then we have terms,” she said with all the joy in her heart. 

…..

They looked to Benjen when he called them; the lone ranger had been scouting ahead while they wait for him. Bran scooted back to offer Meera a space on the saddle. Taking the reins the young woman took them to his uncle. When they reached him, she was first to dismount. Benjen took the horse by its reins and led them to a secluded area. From where she stood, Meera could see The Wall in the distance. 

“This is where I’ll leave you,” said the older Stark.

“You’re not coming with us?” the young huntress asked, surprised.

“The Walls isn’t just ice and stone. Ancient spells were carved into its foundations. Strong magic to protect man from what lies beyond, so while it stands the dead cannot pass.”

“That includes you too,” Bran thought sadly. He’d hoped that his uncle would come with them. “So what will you do now?” the boy asked as his uncle approached him. 

“There’s a war to fight. I’ll do what I can, as long as I can,” Benjen said as he took his nephew off the horse and laid him on the ground. 

“Thank you uncle Benjen,” Bran said as he watched his uncle mount his horse.

“I wish you both good fortune,” Benjen said when he looked to them and gave them a nod, before he rode off to the unknown. 

“He’s just going to leave us here?”

…..

Silence fell soon after the horse trotted away. Looking around, Bran wondered, “what now?” until he spotted a weirwood tree standing a few feet away. As he started jerking his way to it, Meera took notice of his movement and came to his side, pulling the cripple further and rested him under the white tree. Kneeling before the face carved at the heart of the trunk, Bran knew what he had to do. He raised his hand and reached out for the carving on the wood, but Meera stopped him short. 

“Are you sure about this,” the young woman asked, looking anxiously at him. 

“I’m the three-eyed-raven now, I have to do this,” is what he said. Meera appeared unconvinced, prompting him to ask, “What worries you?”

“Last time you went there you were out in such a long time that I feared you’ll never come back,”

“I came back, didn’t I?”

“Yes but what if you won’t this time,” she stopped at the gentle touch of Bran’s hand on her left cheek. She held it down with her own as the young man gave her a smile and assured her that everything would be alright. 

“I'll never leave you,” he said. After staring at each other for a while Meera finally, but slowly, let go of his hand. With that, Bran placed his palm on the carving on the tree. Before he continued, he looked at her one last time. "Those worried eyes," he thought, "It won't stay worried forever, I'll be back I promise," and slipped through his skin. 

……

Meera’s POV

Bran’s absence made her feel alone and naked. Sighing, Meera rested the prince’s head on her lap and set his legs straight in an agreeable posture. Looking up, she saw the weather was pleasant for the day. “I can see the sky clear from here,” she said, even though there was no one to listen. It was a vast ocean blue with no clouds about only birds soaring above. “Beautiful,” she said, smiling. Looking down and giggled, she said, “Kind of like you.”

Bran’s face made no reaction or movement, she never expected it to. She’s all by herself at the moment, with no one to see or hear. Slow and steady, she moved her face close to his and stopped at a certain close range. “This is how close you were last night,” she said, recalling the time when Bran daringly attempted, or at least she thought he was, to claim her lips. “He even touched it.” That’s not the all she remembered. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear you little prince?” she whispered.

“What would you do if I tell you that I like you?” that was Bran’s own words last night. 

Meera’s honest answer would’ve been “I don’t know,” but she remembered how hard it was not to lose her mind and wondered what would happen if she did. “Would I kiss you then?” she asked. “Now that we’re in this position, what do I feel about you, exactly? Will I know for sure when I kiss you right now?” She thought about doing it, he was there and close, so very close that she could hear him breathing. “Even your lips are alluring,” she thought, gently rubbing them with her thumb. But in the end, she sighed and pulled away. 

“I think I’ll keep myself wondering, for now,” she giggled. “Maybe someday, after the war ends and we survive…”

Looking up, toward the horizon, she could see the Wall standing a few leagues away. “We’re almost there, Can you believe that we’ve made it this far?” she asked the boy. No response. “Perhaps you do know. You are a greenseer so I wouldn’t be surprised”. Gently stroking his hair, she wondered, “What would happen to us?” She stopped to think and laughed like it’s the funniest thing, “Like it matters anyway. Let the past be treasured, the present be relished and the future be a mystery, that’s what father used to say. Regardless of how our story ends, it’s great while it lasts.” She kissed the young prince’s forehead and sighed in relief.

“I’m glad I met you Bran Stark”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm...done. 
> 
> That's all friends, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed them. Any comments you might have just list them bellow, I'll reply as soon as possible. Once again, thank you so much for your time. Have a nice day.


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